#it's never going to match up to who/what buddie are to one another

[mickandmusings]

indifferent

pairing: jake 'hangman' seresin x f!reader

word count: 2.4k

summary: a year ago, the sight of jake seresin would've sent her into a flurry of tears. now, as she stares at him chatting up the bleach-blonde at the bar, all she feels is a deep hatred for the man who charmed the room with his stupid texan accent and encapsulating green eyes.

warnings: 18+ MDNI!!! seriously, this is actually a lot more smutty than usual for me; this is my first attempt at more serious smut so it's not good but we're trying new things!; angsty yet fluffy; exes to enemies to lovers (these two hate each other); no use of Y/N; sort of mean!jake, but not really; reader is described as wearing a skirt

based on megan moroney's 'indifferent'

-

As she walks into the Hard Deck, she's convinced the universe is doing everything it can to royally fuck her over.

She'd hoped for a nice night with some random but handsome Naval personnel, make him pay for drinks, give him a rather steamy and heavy make out session, and leave before it can go any further. When she enters from the beach side doors, her eyes scan the room for...Brayden? Brandon? Brian? She couldn't really remember the name attached to his Tinder profile, only remembering the beauty of a Bronco in his pictures, but he wasn't important. What was really important was the spine-chilling hate crawling up her chest as she spots the khaki-uniform-clad blonde at the bar.

Jake fucking Seresin.

Her eyes narrow, knowing her night had already soured, and it hadn't even started. She and Jake had a....history, of sorts. By history she meant deep-seeded rage and hatred for one another after a failed relationship. A year ago, she had been in a mutually exclusive relationship with the aforementioned Lieutenant Seresin, well, one she had thought had been mutually exclusive. Until she found herself worrying and fretting every time he went out with his friends. And her gut had been right, because only six months into the relationship she'd had the dreaded 'hey girl, is this your man?' message sitting in her Instagram DM. When he came home that night and had denied it all, vehemently, she might add, it had escalated to a screaming match and her storming out of the house. From that moment on, she hadn't even bothered to check-in on what he was doing in his life. She hated Jake Seresin, and as much as she told herself she was indifferent to what he was doing with the bleach-blonde giggling next to him at the bar, she knew her skin itched to ruin his night.

Instead, she decided to be the bigger person. In her direct line of vision, she found an empty table in the corner and made her way towards it. She had passed the bar successfully, and she was merely inches away from taking her claim on the seat when his southern accent tumbles into her ears.

"Didn't expect to see you here, darlin'."

Fuck me now.

She takes a deep breath before turning around meeting his tall figure. He hadn't changed, still muscular and broad, big green eyes and well-kept blonde hair. She rolls her eyes, tapping her nails against the table nonchalantly. She didn't care about him, and she would not fall victim to his charms-never again.

"What do you want, Seresin?"

His eyes widen, a shit-eating grin creeping on his face as he raises his hands in mock surrender.

"Damn, sweetheart, I'm just sayin' hello."

"Yeah I bet. Hey, Jake. Now, you better scurry back to your girl at the bar before she gets scooped up by one of your little Navy buddies."

He looks back at Coyote's girlfriend he had been casually catching up with, certainly not flirting, but if it riled up the girl in front of him, well, then he'd play into it. Jake shrugs, sliding his hands into his pockets.

"Not too worried about it, not really interested."

Yeah, I bet.

"So what do you want with me? Because you're not here to play catch up, Seresin."

Jake takes a good look at her, she's obviously here for a date. Her outfit is casual enough for the bar, but accents her curves enough to attract some appeal. Even enough to make his own pants feel tight. Whoever she was here with was one damn lucky man, no matter how jealousy burned at Jake's chest.

"You look good tonight."

She audibly scoffs, rolling her eyes at the compliment.

"If you're here to grovel about what happened, save it. You should've done that a year ago."

Jake bristles, annoyed. Their blow-up fight had been a simple case of misunderstanding. He hadn't been flirting with the girl at the bar that night, he'd been helping her escape a creep who had been following her around the bar. He had to admit, the photo had been a little...compromising, when taken out of context. She'd never even given him a chance to explain himself before blowing it out of the water. They'd both yelled at one another, not bothering to hear either side of the other's statements. She left full of shaking anger, and he hadn't seen her since, until now.

"Maybe I could've groveled if you would've listened to me for two damn minutes."

She swings her head around, her own feelings bristling as she raises her voice.

"Listen to you?! The evidence was pretty damn convincing, Jake!"

He breathes deeply, cutting his green eyes to Phoenix standing at the pool table. The brunette lifts a brow in his direction. Jake knows this is going to escalate quickly, both of their tempers flaring, and for the sake of not ruining his reputation in front of his coworkers, he grips her arm and takes her outside to the parking lot.

"What the fuck are you doing?! Get your hands off of me!"

As they approach the spot where his truck is parked, he lets go of her and she crosses her arms.

"You're yellin' at me like some kind of crazy in there. My teammates are in there-"

"Oh! God forbid the great Hangman is embarrassed in front of his friends."

She's angry, flaring with an annoyance so great she's blind to what she's saying. Jake, a man known for his ego, seems to flare in the same manner. His voice is biting when he speaks.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it!"

"I swear to God, you must get off on the idea of pissing me off!"

They're loud, yelling over one another about trivial things-her being here on a date, him flirting at the bar with another girl, stupid things that didn't amount to much, but nearly anything could fuel the fire between them. Both were still ridiculously attracted to one another, despite everything, and their feelings ran deep. Jake's face is red-between the heat of California and his searing annoyance, he had begun to work up a sweat. Not to mention how incredibly hot she looked when she was pissed. Their voices could not get any louder at one another, spouting off any detail they could think of. Finally, it draws to a head when she spits out her next sentence, her tone biting.

"You know, I fucking hate you, Jake Seresin."

Jake chuckles dryly, no humor lacing his tone.

"That's a harsh claim comin' from the girl givin' me fuck me eyes."

She recoils, crossing her arms over her chest. She knows he's right, despite her annoyance with him, she knows there's still a fire between them, one she tries to swallow despite her blood burning and her heart racing.

"You wish, asshole."

"Yeah, I do."

His response shocks her, his tone softer than before, but his eyes nearly predatory. He can feel his usual roomy uniform grow tight, his jaw clenched tightly. Her eyes dart between his own as they glimmer in the moonlight, and she finds herself unable to find a retort. No worries, Jake's voice oozes with charm and seduction.

"What? Cat got your tongue all of a sudden, darlin'? You sure were all talk only a few seconds ago."

"Y-You don't mean that."

Her voice comes out small and unsure, her throat feeling dry and her entire being throbbing with the tingle of desire.

"Don't mean what?"

He comes closer, eyes never falling from her own, his calloused hands coming around her hips. He almost expects her to flinch out of his touch, but she lets him hold her against his own hips. She can see and feel the evidence of his own arousal, the usual light color of his eyes dark with lust.

"You think I'd lie about wantin' you? You're a damn fool if you think that, I've thought about you since the night you ran out my door."

She stills, her heart racing as she manages to form a thought.

"Y-You cheated on me, I'm not falling for this."

She goes to turn from his hold, but his grip on her hips is tight.

"No."

His voice is firm, demanding.

"That ain't what happened. You just never gave me a second to explain it. So I'm gonna talk, and you're gonna listen, got it?"

His voice was serious, but he was never intimidating or scary. Jake might be an asshole, but he'd never lay a hand on her, not like that.

"I wasn't flirtin' with that girl, never did, not once. That girl asked me to help her, and whoever sent you pictures of us got it all out of context. I might be a dick but I wouldn't do that to you, and I thought you knew that."

She looks at him, conflicted between wanting to jump his bones or punch him square in the jaw. She settles on simply asking a question.

"So why did you never try to call me? O-Or text me to explain?"

"Would you have listened?"

She already knew the answer to that.

"No."

He raises an eyebrow, nodding his head in a knowing look. Both halves of the couple are quiet for a minute, not knowing where to go from here. She's the first to break the silence.

"So, what does this mean?"

Jake shrugs.

"Nothin' if you don't want it to. But if you want me like I want you right now, I'd be okay with that, too."

The heat-filled tension is almost palpable, both of their chests heaving with barely contained want. Jake wants nothing more than to throw her over his shoulder and take her in the backseat of his truck, but this isn't his decision. It's hers-she has to decide if he's what she wants.

She cocks her head to the side before looking back up at him.

"And if I do want you like you want me?"

He feels himself twitch in his godforsaken uniform.

"Then you say the word and I'll make you forget whatever little shit you came here to meet."

In all honesty, she already had forgotten about...Bryson? Fuck, she really couldn't remember the poor guy's name.

"I swear to God, Seresin, if you don't touch me I'll lose my fucking mind."

Jake grins, pulling her flush against him.

"Well we can't have that can we, darlin'?"

His lips meet her own with little warning, a frenzy of clashing teeth and fumbling hands. Jake's hands meet on her back dangerously low, before he's placing his palms flat on her ass, pulling her up and her legs wrap around his waist. Her body flames at even the smallest stimulation, and when his hard-on meets her core, she lets out a provocative moan. Jake is going blind with an unbridled, insatiable want, and he wants-no-needs her, now.

"Baby," he grunts as her hips roll into his own. "You gotta stop that or I'm gonna take you right here in this goddamn parkin' lot."

She pulls back from his gaze, giving him a look as she breathes heavily, her lips plump from his fervor.

"When have we ever been above fucking in your back seat?"

Jake shakes his head and slams open the back door of his truck, wasting zero time tossing her lightly against the leather seats. Once, not so long ago, she would've given him shit for his ridiculous truck, but in this moment, with nothing but pure lust in her eyes, she was thankful for his spacious back seats and tinted windows. He slams the door behind him, and effectively clicks the lock attached to his keys before tossing them into the passenger side seat, his hands now free to grasp the supple flesh of her bottom. His lips return to the open plain of her neck, and she sighs, knowing he was headed towards the sweet spot in the junction of her neck and jaw. He finds it within seconds, and she chokes on a gasp. Her hands find purchase in his blonde locks, a lot less soft from the gel, but still comfortable. Jake groans against her collarbone from the sensation alone, his hips subconsciously thrusting to meet against her own. His lips travel down to the exposed top of her chest before he pulls back, tossing his uniform top and undershirt, dog tags dangling down to brush against her skin. He looks down at her with his hands grasping her hips.

"You sure about this?"

She nods, she'd never been more sure.

"I need your words, baby."

God, this man was going to kill her.

"Yeah, I'm sure, Jake."

In one swift move, he's yanking down the skirt on her hips, her undergarments with it. His knee separates her legs, leaving her completely exposed to his eyes alone. He shakes his head and tuts, smiling the infamous Hangman grin.

"As beautiful as the day I lost 'er."

He darts back down between her legs before beginning to ravish her completely. The next long stretch of time is spent with both of them completely lost in one another. The sound of skin meeting skin fills the air, mingling with cries of pleasure, mangled gasps, and the whispers of each other's names. By the time they both fall against one another after their heights, they're panting and sweating, completely sated and exhausted. The air is quiet, only their heavy breaths between them. Jake is the first to speak after a bout of nothingness.

"Who were you here to meet with anyhow? Hard Deck doesn't seem like somewhere you'd come for shits and giggles."

She takes a breath, rolling over to lie on his chest, tucking her head under his chin as his large hand grips her hip, pulling her closer.

"Met some guy on Tinder. Brayden? Bryson? I don't remember, just saw a really nice Bronco in his pictures. Seemed cute enough for a casual Friday night."

Jake's eyes widen, he moves his head to his hand, propping himself up to look down at her.

"Bradley, maybe?"

She shrugs.

"Yeah, maybe, why?"

"He got a mustache, lots of funky patterned shirts?"

She furrows her brow, wondering how he knew.

"Yeah, why?"

Jake groans as he lays back down, running a hand over his face. She giggles, leaning up to prop her head on his chest.

"What?"

Jake grins.

"I can't believe I was about to lose you to Bradshaw of all people."

She listens to him chuckle, but she doesn't return the action. She shakes her head, pushing blonde hair out of his face.

"You won't lose me, not again."

-

[tawaifeddiediaz]

everyone is telling me about how these relationships are doomed and how they spend this entire half telling you these relationships are not lasting and I just wanna know what is this evidence? I've seen like 3 people say we know these relationships will not work and I feel stupid asking because I don't watch much TV so I don't understand thematic elements or subtext that well, I'm sorry. But can you tell me why we know these relationships will not work? I want to have hope they won't.

It's really just...the very Telling comparisons to their previous relationships, and also the way that no matter who they try to date, somehow, they end up falling short with the partners they already have, y'know? call it subtextual intuition or whatever, but even if these new relationships aren't quite the same as the ones from s4, there are still Extremely Loud patterns.

This gifset by @eddiesbuck should point out the similiarities between bucktaylor and bucktalia. as for eddiemarisol, all the things he's looking for are things he already has, but exploration and him setting out on his first post-grieving relationship are necessary for his arc, but the way it's set-up doesn't give much weight to an endgame.

of course, until we have s7, we're not going to know 100% for sure, but if you ask me, that's what it is.

[blacknailsandheartbreak]

Part 2 to how the group cannot fathom how you and Zuko are so close with your angel of a self and Zuko being... well, Zuko

AN: OKAY! Look at me go, coming out with a part two. I think I might do a part two to some previous pieces of mine but we will see.

SO this is a part two, so you can read the first one here, it will give some context clues into this second part of the story (but can probably be read solo) : Part 1

Any who, ~2300 word count, enjoy :)

KIDDIE FREE ZONE

Good Friends

That's all you guys were. Good Friends. Zuko kept telling himself he had no reason to be so bothered by that statement, but he was. He didn't want to be just good friends, but you had given a better answer then he would have in your position. But now the Gaang has been flying for the past couple days and has given him lots of time for thinking. Especially having you for the majority of the time sitting with him leaning against his arm, grazing legs, as you were not shy to the general touch. You always seemed to start up the conversations with him, your way of speech held him in interest, but as already known, he never said much back, but always was happy to listen.

But ever since that last night of camp a few days ago he cannot let the thought go. Good Friends. He knew that the talks you two have, the moments you both cherish, and the secrets you two shared was enough of a connection to be more than just good friends, or at least in his mind it was. You two were absolutely glued to the hip, and seemed to be together, just without the title. Zuko was fine with no title, he would rather the group didn't know but for you two to have that clarity is what he was craving. He knew there were other things that were more important at the moment but it couldn't calm down in his mind. He had to know, he wanted to be together. Even if that became another secret you both shared he would gladly add it to the pile.

As the afternoon began to fall fast on the fourth day of travel, the Gaang was running low on rations and decided to hit the next market in the upcoming town. Upon arrival, Aang and Sokka grabbed Zuko to tackle their list as Katara and Toph grabbed you to get the remaining items. Zuko was hoping to buddy up with you but it would have to wait. As the group divided and conquered, Sokka was getting very nosy with Zuko about a certain someone. Zuko ignored all of his questions or what felt like more accusations. Meanwhile the girls had finished with their tasks and Toph had somehow gotten into a gambling match with the remaining money they had and won every time. You stood back leaning against a nearby wall smiling, not wanting anything to do with the situation but you weren't going to interfere either. You feel a brush against your shoulder and look up to see Zuko, you smile and greet Aang and Sokka. You ask how their huntings went and they all agreed it had gone well. Zuko looked at you and asked if Toph and Katara were seriously gambling the little money they had left. You laughed and were about to answer but before you could Toph came over with a large bag and tossed it at Zuko. He caught it effortlessly, and it jingled heavily. All of the boys eyes widened, and Toph said "We will be sleeping well tonight thanks to yours truly."

The Gaang walked around the town as the night grew darker and the many street lamps glowed near and far, Zuko's mind still buzzing with the taunting thought of good friends. Maybe he was over thinking it and there was already an unspoken agreement you two were together? Or was he being weird and obsessive? Or maybe you had a completely different view on all of it? Or maybe-

His thoughts were cut off by you linking your arm through his and pointing out the beautiful lights, from the shops, to concessions, to the fountains, to the groups of lively people. He looked down at you and for the first time, he wasn't really listening to you. He just looked at you, looked at your smile as if you knew this moment was made just for you. He would forever be in awe at how effortlessly you spoke as if you had already rehearsed it one hundred times. He feels your genuine happiness and spirit in your eyes as you look up at him and he wonders how you hold such grace through everything. All his thoughts left his mind as he looked at you and thought, yeah, that is my girl.

Once the Gaang decided to call it a night, you all looked for an Inn to stay at for the night. There was not much of an option in the small town, so you all entered the closest place and the lady at the front desk greeted you all with a warm smile. Aang went to talk with the lady and brought back a handful of keys. Everyone was confused as he handed everyone their own key and explained that they only had single rooms left for the night. Nobody really complained as everyone seemed they could use some time to themselves. Everyone shuffled into their rooms with quick goodnights, but before Zuko walked through his door, he looked over his shoulder at your direction, and there you were. Walking into your room and almost as if you felt his eyes you looked over your shoulder and stopped for a moment, you smiled at Zuko and gave a small wave of goodnight before stepping into your room and closing the door. Zuko's eyes stayed on your room for a moment longer, before a small tap on his shoulder made him spin around. It was Katara. Zuko was lost for words. Katara smiled and whispered "I won't tell, not that is isn't already so obvious, but you should really talk to her." Before Zuko could respond to her she waved goodnight and walked into her room. He stood in the hallway like a man who was shot and was too afraid to move. He looked back at your door, he felt the longing in every part of his being to just go and knock on your door and say everything he has been thinking just like you do. How you so effortlessly say exactly what you're thinking, that is what he wanted to do. He wanted to tell you what it meant to him to have someone like you become so close to someone like him. He wanted to tell you that the secrets you both shared with each other meant the world to him and he would take them to his very grave if you wished so. He wanted to tell you that every time you smiled it felt like it was for him and him only. But he didn't. He walked back into his room and shut the door.

Zuko got ready for bed and laid down for a few minutes, he tossed and turned and his chest felt so heavy. He let out a sigh as he laid on his back and placed a hand on his chest with the other one behind his head. He stared up at the ceiling. Zuko let out a small grunt of frustration when he got up, deciding to go get some water. He grabbed the bucket from the small table in the room and walked towards the door. Zuko grabbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation and pulled his hand down his face, he went and opened the door and to his complete shock, there you stood. You looked almost as surprised as he did. You both stood in silence for a moment, and for the first time, Zuko spoke first. He asked if you were alright, because the last thing he expected was for you to be standing at his door in the middle of the night. You replied softly, saying you were ok, just had a lot on your mind. You noticed Zuko holding the bucket for water and offered to go with him to fetch some, he agreed. This time you both walked in silence to retrieve the water and walked in silence back to the rooms. You both came to stand outside Zuko's room and he asked if you were sure you were ok, and you replied that you were, probably just over tired. Zuko looked at you and asked you if you wanted to come into his room. You smiled softly and insisted you didn't want to intrude. He didn't respond and just motioned you inside, you accepted and walked in, Zuko shut the door behind you.

Zuko grabbed the ladle and poured you some water while you sat on the bed, he handed you the cup. You smiled and thanked him as you grabbed the cup and took a sip. Zuko sits next to you and rests his elbows on his thighs and looks down between his knees to the floor, he's not sure how he wants to go about tonight. He has no idea where to start, no idea how to talk or truly express his thoughts. He worries about sounding like a bumbling fool compared to your angelic soft spoken way of words. But before he could think further, the bed shifted and you were now directly beside Zuko with your head leaning on his shoulder. He looked up and he knew he wanted this, he wanted to be the one to call you his. He wanted to be by your side every step of the way and watch you regain the pride of being a fire bender. He wanted to have you by his side helping him with the path of change after the comet, and he didn't want to do it as good friends, he wanted to do it together. Zuko took in a deep breath, and asked "Do you really think we are just good friends?" and without a breath missed you replied "I knew your ears were on fire that night." you sat up with that comment, Zuko smirked and chuckled, you two were very close now, mere inches from each other's faces. "But no..." you replied, "I don't think we are just good friends, do you?" Zuko looked into your eyes, they seemed to shimmer the most beautiful shade of amber even with the liminal lighting in the room. "I don't think so either." He replied. Zuko saw your eyes dart to his lips and back to his eyes but the second your gaze connected back with his, he was already pulling you into a kiss. He put his hand just under your ear, along your jaw, pulling you in gently, as if giving you an option to back out. But you didn't, you leaned in and placed your hand on his arm and you kissed deep. Zuko lavished in this moment and if there was any way he could pull you in even closer he would. You pulled away first and looked at Zuko, he looked at you with so many emotions, "We are together." he stated. You smiled so wide and nodded, for the first time you were speechless and practically tackled Zuko to the bed, kissing him so deeply while he gladly reciprocated with the same action. You were straddling Zuko as he effortlessly flipped you over on the bed so he was now on top, you placed both your hands on his jaw and leaned up to give him a small kiss and then laid back down. "Would you stay with me tonight?" Zuko asked, you smiled, "Of course I will, I thought you'd never ask." Zuko rolls his eyes and leans down for a kiss but you halt his actions by asking, "What about the others, they will see me leaving your-" Zuko cuts you off with a soft kiss and after responds "I don't care, they can make their own assumptions." You smile so happily and nod your head, "But, they are going to ask questions-" you started but again Zuko cut you off before you can overthink, "So answer them however you want to, however you feel is right." He leans down and kisses you so romantically, and moves to your cheek, and down to your jaw, and making his way to your neck, you let out the smallest gasp. You could feel tingles all throughout your body, from your fingertips to your toes. This was the moment you were both waiting for, Zuko knew this is what he wanted, he wanted you now, tomorrow, the day after that, the months that follow and the years to come. You were his as much he was yours. He gave himself to you that night as you gave yourself to him. Both vulnerable to one another, savouring each movement, each touch, every breath you both shared. The night was exactly what you both wanted, it was what you both needed.

The next morning Zuko woke up with you laying on his chest and his arms wrapped around you. Both of you spent the morning getting ready and just smiling at each other, no lingering feeling or questions of what ifs. You could both just be together.

It was time to check out and continue the journey, so you both gathered all your belongings and walked to the door. You both stopped and you looked at Zuko, "They are going to ask." you stated, and Zuko looked right back at you, "Then answer." he replied. He opened the door and the Gaang was waiting in the hall. Katara was the first to see you both exit and she tried to hide her smile with a polite hand, the others turned to look and were caught a blank. Zuko shut the door with you standing by his side. You greeted everyone and you both walked towards the group, "What are you all staring at, let's head out." Zuko said so nonchalantly, everyone stood in silence for a second longer and proceeded on like nothing happened.

[222col]

Can we get a fic about womanizer Art who's a very famous tennis player and never committed to any woman before even though girls are throwing themselves at him and who doesn't sleep with the same girl twice until he meets y/n ( a maneater) and the sex is something that Art has never experienced before to the point he becomes obsessed with her, she's all what he thinks about and refuses to sleep with another girl and he's determined to make her his no matter what

uhhh yes of course 🧎🏻‍♀️

art donaldson. the man who's only lost two games is entire professional career, he's one of the most, if not the most, successful tennis players in history. he's out most weekends, celebrating another win, another trophy to add to the cabinet. taking a new girl home with him every night, they all fall to his feet like putty. he thinks it's pathetic, but hey, it gets him laid. he's been single during his adult career, too busy fucking random girls and focusing on his tennis to bother committing, not that he would want to anyhow. he never sleeps with the same girl twice, he did that once, some seven years ago. he couldn't stand the way she'd text him constantly afterwards.

he's just won another trophy hitting up the local club with his friends. patrick joins up with him, later in the night. "congrats donaldson, sorry i'm late man, we all bar crawled our way here." art surveys the people patrick has brought with him. you're laughing at something with one of the boys patrick's brought along. "who's that?" art questions, nodding towards you. patrick tells him your name, "she's uh, my buddy's girlfriends, cousin or sister or something, fuck i don't know," patrick laughs into his drink. target acquired, art finishes the vodka soda he's drinking, turning to place the empty cup on the side. your mouth is attached to the guy you were laughing with, your dress hitched up slightly as his hands dart around your waist. "look like he beat you to it, artie," art shakes his head at his friend. "games not over 'til it's over, patrick."

the group of you are shown over to a vip booth, near the back of the club. the guy you were making out with gets up to go to the bathroom, art stands, about to steal his seat next to you when another one of patrick's friends beats him to it. "fuck me," art whispers, slumping back to his place in the booth and backing another vodka soda. the new guy whispers something in your ear, hand on your thigh as you move to make out with him. art should be turned off with how easy you're acting, but honestly he's impressed, the way you have every guy here wrapped around your finger. they're throwing themselves at you the way in which girls do to him, he's intrigued. "game, set, match." patrick laughs to art. "uh uh, no way." art walks straight over to you, pulling the guy off you by his shoulder. "hey! hey- you're art donaldson!" art rolls his eyes. "i'll sign an autograph later, but right now, you're in my seat."

he raises his hands in defeat, moving for art to take his position next to you. "i'd tell you off for interrupting, but he was a shit kisser." you smirk to the blonde in front of you. "well, guess you'll just have to thank me instead." you sip your drink. "i wouldn't go that far, donaldson?" he nods. "art donaldson, and you are?" you introduce yourself. "and who are you that your face alone made that guy run for the hills?" wow, you really don't know him. it's refreshing. "a tennis player." it wasn't the answer you were expecting. "aren't you a bit too pretty to be a tennis player?" art fakes a pout. "i'm so sorry i don't meet your expectations, but hey, at least i know you think i'm pretty." you shrug at him. "it's just a fact. dance with me?" you ask, standing up, holding out your hand. he takes it, of course, joining you on the dance floor. art's not much of a dancer, but that doesn't stop his arm snaking around your waist as you grind against him.

he's whispering in your ear, disgusting, perverted things about the way your body feels against his. art's not shy in situations like this, he thrives, it's his weekly routine. "you gonna keep talking or are you gonna take me home and actually act on what you're telling me, donaldson." he's pulling you out of the club, jumping into the car he has waiting outside. the partition is already rolled up as art climbs on top of you the second the car door is shut. his lips touch yours for the first time tonight and he's intoxicated, your lipstick leaving stains on his skin but he can't get enough. you're reaching between your bodies, palming him through his jeans. "christ, you're like a teenager. all you've done is kiss me and you're already hard." he was hard the second you danced up against him, but that's not the point. "you gonna fucking do something about it then?" he's biting, kissing, sucking his way down your jaw to your neck. "no actually, i think you can grow up and wait until we're at wherever we're going." it's you biting his skin now, his earlobe, his neck, his shoulder. "we're going back to my house, where i can fuck you like the slut you are." you're desperately trying not to give him the satisfaction of hearing you moan yet. the car pulls up to art's place, the door opening as he pulls you into the house.

you're kissing the way through the house as art leads you to his bedroom. pulling your dress over your head as you remove his shirt. "fuuuuck," he whispers as you push him backwards to the bed. undoing his jeans, discarding them across the room with his briefs. you crawl over his body, his hands looping behind you to undo your bra. "you're the hottest woman i've ever seen." he peppers your breasts with kisses before manhandling them. "bet you say that to all the girls you fuck in this bed." your hand reaching down between your bodies again, pumping his newly exposed cock in your hand. he groans as he replies. "i don't actually, you're the sexiest thing i've ever laid my eyes on." you scoff and pump his cock faster. "you're not so bad yourself, donaldson."

he flips you over onto your back, moving down your body, removing your panties with his teeth. "you've even got the prettiest little pussy i've ever seen." he immediately starts tonguing your clit, inserting two fingers into you. your moans are killing him, pre-cum falling out of his cock at the taste of you. he reaches over to his nightstand to pull out a condom. "don't, i'm on the pill." he smiles over to you, "fuck me, art." lining himself up with your entrance, "now, say please." god, the sound that escaped your lips in response could have had art confessing his love to you. "please, fuck, please art," he lifts your legs up, resting them on his shoulders as he slides himself into you. getting drunk of the sounds of you and the way you feel around him. he pushes your legs down closer to you, he's never felt this deep inside someone before. "jesus, you're fucking perfect," he mutters, leaning down to kiss your swollen lips.

he's already getting close, leaning back to thumb your clit as he fucks you quicker than before. "fuck, shit, you feel fucking amazing," your hands grasp the sheets, more profanities leaving your lips. "i'm so fucking close," he whispers, his grip around your ankle tightening. "fuck, come inside me, please, art." fuck. no one's ever let him do that before. in all these years, all these girls, not one as let him come inside of them. a few more thrusts is all it takes for art to finish inside your pussy. it feels like fucking heaven to him. that's it. that's what's been missing. he works your clit until you're a mess beneath his fingers, watching you orgasm as his load drips out of you. "fuck. i need to do that again." he falls down next to you on the bed. "which bit specifically?" you giggle, kissing his shoulder. "all of it. you. coming inside of you." his eyes meet yours. "i wanna see you again." placing kisses on your lips. "not my style, unfortunately for you, donaldson." you start sitting up, his hand grasping your wrist, stopping you in motion. "it wasn't a question."

he gets your number from patrick's friend's girlfriend, turns out you're her friend, not her sister or cousin. she likes art for you, so obliges when he requests your number. blowing up your phone, near enough begging you to see him again. it's been weeks since he saw you, skipping the clubs after matches to sit at home and stalk you on social media. there's just something about you, consuming his thoughts. you never replied further than 'who's this?' to his texts, you make him look pathetic.

i will literally do anything you ask if you just let me take you on a date.

it's late, he's becoming desperate for just a text back from you. throwing his phone across the room after he sends another text. "this is just ridiculous." he mumbles to himself, when a text notification lights up his phone, falling off the bed and running to it, he see's your name.

anything?

fucking finally. he's sat on the floor, smiling into his phone like a little boy texting his crush.

literally anything in the world.

he sends the text back immediately. fuck waiting around to make himself seem less desperate.

would you let me fuck you with a racket?

god, you're disgusting, he fucking loves it.

i would do whatever it takes just to taste you again.

he's staring at the three bubbles on his phone, like his world would shatter if they stopped.

you can take me to dinner tomorrow then.

[riririnnnn]

More random things in Blue Lock I find endearing:

-> Brothers

LOOK AT THE HAND PLACEMENT OF SAE. JUST LOOK AT IT. LOOK. AT. IT. OHMYGOD I'M GONNA CRY.

Oh god.

It's tough to explain, but to see him supporting Rin's arm instead of the trophy makes me want to punch a wall. It feels like, "Yes, we won this together, Rin." OHMYGOD! AAAAAAAA!!!

-> Hushed wisher

I really don't think we have ever seen Noa coaching any player other than Isagi, so him silently rooting for Kaiser caught me off guard real hard. Of course, it doesn't seem like much of a big deal, but to see that Noa hadn't completely taken his eyes off of Kaiser and that he hadn't completely pulled away his trust from Kaiser hits a certain type of emotion in my heart.

Considering that Kaiser wants to win over Noa too—a fact Noa, probably, knows—makes everything feel a bit.. bittersweet.

-> CHEERS!!

The above panel happened after Shidou scored a goal against Barcha and honestly—

CUTE!!!

I mean, BM was next in line to face PxG—it's probably the reason why they were watching the match live—and they were going to face Shidou which makes them rivals, and yet, when he does something cool, they all go, "WOOHOO! THAT'S COOL!!" instead of worrying or being jealous.

It's called sportsmanship, I guess?

It's sweet.

-> BM's Dad

There's another translation, but I find the above one way better because it's so... soft.

I mean, Noa has always been shown as this cold, emotionless person who inhales and exhales logic, so it was sweet when he tried to reassure Kiyora—when he showed some kind of compassion. It was like, "Hey, Kiddo! It's okay, don't worry, you'll play the next time! Cheer up!"

It also makes it sound like even if Kiyora were not to have the required stats for the next match, then Noa was prepared to against his own ideals and let Kiyora play regardless.

Sweet!

-> Protective

When Nagi got pissed off because Barou's violent behaviour nearly hurt Reo. Like, just look at that stance, he was ready to beat the crap out of Barou if Reo wouldn't have stopped him.

No matter what label you give Nagi and Reo—lovers or friends—you can't deny that they are probably the best thing that happened to eachother.

I really want what they have.

-> "It's their love language"

They barely knew eachother and yet when these two started to brawl, they all intervened immediately—Nanase and Isagi are literally hanging onto them with their dear life. It's tough to explain, but I found the gesture really sweet, like, they didn't know them! They could bash open their skulls—it wouldn't affect them at all and yet, they are trying to stop them!

Adorbs!!

Also, Chigiri was on the other side of the field, I guess. He came running!!! So sweet!

-> First friend

The way Bachira blindly believed in Isagi. Like, he had full trust that Isagi will come and play with him. He never doubted him at all! The healthiest duo of Blue Lock!

Also, look at his duck lips. Cutie.

-> "Welcome to the academy!"

Anybody who has shifted to a completely new place full of completely new people knows how good and relieving it feels when others make an effort to help you feel welcomed.

No idea if those three extra characters got selected in the tryouts or not, but they were nice. If Kaiser would've met them earlier, then they all would've surely been good buddies.

-> Beloved Ace

The way everyone instantly got mad at Shidou when he hurt Sendou—sweet! Also, the fact that they all refused to play if Sendou didn't play makes me giggle.

I adore bonds like these so much.

.

.

.

Pt: 1, 2, 3.

Probably the last of this series.

[vnti-vntiety-recs]

Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better (M)

★  PAIRING: Academic rival!Haechan x afab/fem!reader

☆ WORD COUNT: 4.8k

★ GENRE(S): Smut, E2lover, Rival2lovers

☆ SUMMARY: Haechan and you have never gotten along, and your friend group is sick of it, so they make a bet that the two of you can't ignore. When put to the test, will your hatred for each other still stand?

★ ☆ WARNINGS: 18+, minors do not interact, Meandom! Haechan, aphrodisiac drug, mentions of drinking, sexual bet, sexual intercourse, swearing, unprotected sex, creampie, Haechan being mean, lowkey forgot what I wrote, so just BEWARE.

☆★ NOTES: Yuh! This idea has been stuck in my head for a while. Another saga of me failing the Don't write another hate2love challenge! FYI, I'm not a writer; I'm just a person who writes occasionally. Lovers in e2l not found more of a fuck buddy type relationship. Anyway I just wanted to say thanks for the support on my other fics. I don't usually write that often but the good feedback encourages me.

At this point, your friends were getting tired of it. You two were constantly at each other's throats. They initially believed you could'nt stand one another, but recently, the atmosphere in the room after your shouting matches was too intense to be fueled solely by animosity. The flames behind your eyes burned too brightly for them to be caused by resentment alone. They used to hold you back from lunging at him, but now they wondered what would really happen if you got your hands on him.

Haechan and you had known each other since middle school. You two shared a lot of the same classes, and unfortunately, you both had parents who expected you to excel in school. You were always trying to one-up each other or stamp out the other's resolve. Your relationship was rocky from the start, and even if you two weren't fighting for the top spot, you doubt you would find him likable.

Haechan was a natural at everything. He didn't have to try very hard to be the best; he just got it. On the other hand, despite spending hours studying, you could just barely match his performance. You were jealous of how easy he made it look. The fact that he would flaunt his success in your face didn't help.

“Can't keep up?” He would say after outperforming you on the final exam by 10 points, he had that same smirk that seemed permanently etched onto his face on full display. You had spent days preparing for the test, even skipping a few hours of sleep. Haechan never studied; the most he ever did to prepare for an exam was to quickly skim the material a few hours before the test. Even then, he would still ace it.

You expected to grow up and put the rivalry behind yourselves during high school, but he would jump at any chance to make you look like an idiot. You could say the sky was blue, and he would argue that it was actually the reflection of the ocean that gave the sky the illusion of being blue. Back in middle school, you limited all interactions with him for your own sanity. However, in high school, he somehow managed to join your friend group, so you were forced to endure him during hangouts. You eventually got used to his presence and the non-stop teasing. It wasn't until you received your acceptance letter to the college you would be attending with your friends that you thought you would finally be free from him. Haechan's parents had wanted him to go to a college that was 4 hours away from your hometown, and you counted down the days until graduation.

Luck was never on your side.

Due to Haecahan's tendency to put things off, he wasn't able to submit his application in time, and as the school was very competitive, the available spots quickly filled up. Luckily for him, your college had an extended application process, which allowed him to send it in late, and he was accepted. Now here you are two years into college, and Haechan is still insufferable.

You two were on two completely different career tracks, so your classes never overlapped, so at least you stopped fighting about grades. Being at the top doesn't matter to you anymore, anyway. You hated the pressure that your parents put on you growing up. Before, you would have had a heart attack if you saw a B, but now you just shrug them off. Even still, all you two do is just have petty arguments because that's all you have ever done.

“You would not be able to see an explosion in space; it's a vacuum; fire can't exist.”

"Well, I've seen Star Wars, so I think that proves my point.”

“That's Fiction! You know, like the idea of you having a brain,” you roll your eyes.

“Almost like your sense of humor? I was joking. Of course I know that I took astronomy before you," he smirks.

He was constantly trying to get under your skin. You take a long breath and try to calm yourself down. "Well, yeah, because I took a different science asshole." Your friends say it's because you always give him a reaction, but you hate being wrong. You had to get the last word, especially against know-it-alls like him.

Despite your complaints, he isn't entirely horrible. On the days that you two aren't arguing, he's making you laugh so hard that you practically fall over. He's not a complete jerk all the time; it's just that once you two get started, it's hard to stop.

“Oh please, can you two cut it out? You have either had too much alcohol or not enough if you can still think about arguing,” your friend Johnny slurs.

It's Saturday night, and you have just finished off an exhausting exam week. Your friends felt a celebration was in order to wind down from the trying week. Now the only thing trying was Haechan testing your patience. You're at Johnny's house, and everyone is spread out around his spacious living room, bottles of alcohol scattered several surfaces. Johnny’s family was well off, and he lived off campus in one of the few estates that his family owned. The house had two stories and a pool in the backyard. On the weekends, you would spend the most of your time here.

“You're right I came here to relax, not burst a blood vessel.” You sigh and take a seat next to Johnny on the couch. You take a couple sips from whichever unopened can of cheap alcohol is nearby. Even though you could already sense a buzz coming on, it needed to hit harder if you were going to have to deal with Haechan all night.

Hyuck chuckled and found a spot on the carpeted floor. "Sorry, the princess just seemed like her day was going too well; I had to ruin it a little," he said.

Your friend Yuna raised an eyebrow in his direction and smirked as she took another sip of her drink. “For you to hate her so much, you sure do spend a lot of time thinking about her.”

“One point Yuna, '' you smile at your friend's rebuttal. Arguing with Haechan could be tiring, but your roommate always had your back.

“I think you two just need to hug it out... in a room... alone,” your other friend Mark joked.

You dryly laugh, "So funny."

“You scared?” Hyuck says with a wicked grin. He leans back on one arm as he sips on his drink, still eyeing you confidently. It's at times like these that you betray yourself the most. He looks so good with his light brown hair framing his face; it's grown so long now that it covers his eyes if he doesn't push it back. The alcohol must be hitting because now all you can imagine is pulling on the soft brown locks and not out of anger. You must have taken too long to reply, because now he's raising an eyebrow at you.

“I wouldn't want to be alone with you even if you were the last person on earth."

Johnny cuts off Haechan's response before he can start. "Want to test that theory?"

Questions run through everyone's mind as you all turn to look at Johnny after his outburst.

“What, are you gonna kill us or something?” Haechan responds wearily.

"No, but I should, with the headache you have given me.”

“So…?” You urge him to continue.

"You two keep saying how much you can't stand each other, so how about we put that to the test?" Johnny closes with a sinister grin.

“I feel like you're gonna say something really stupid next." Mark comments

Johnny ushers your other friends into a huddle and tries his best to whisper in his drunken state.

"Guys, just hear me out? We can all feel the tension between these two. They clearly need to fuck or something, so how about we help them along so we don't have to deal with them trying to tear each other apart?”

“How would we do that?”

“We can hear you, and I am NOT fucking him."

“Oh come on, we see the way you two look at each other; you're both just too stubborn to realize it.”

"Hyuck, don't just sit there; help me out here!" you plead

“They have a point, though; you do want to fuck me,” he confidently adds.

"Please, you would be lucky enough if I poked you with a stick,” you say in distaste.

“Order! Order!” Johnny slurs, "Look, I have a way for you both to prove yourselves,” using his beer can as a makeshift gavel.

“Yeah, where were you even going with all of this? Man get to the point,” Mark mutters as he gets comfortable on the sofa.

“"What if you two take an aphrodisiac together and try not to touch each other? If you can last, then you two will win and show everyone how much you despise one another."

The room is silent when Johnny finishes pitching his idea. You think he definitely had one too many drinks tonight. What kind of plan was this? There was no way in hell you would go along with ANY of Johnny's half-baked ideas, but this one was especially crazy. You were just about to shoot down the idea when another voice interrupted you.

“I'm down. What? You can't stand the idea of keeping your hands off me?” Haechan grumbles upon seeing your reaction.

“what? I was just thinking this is stupid. What do I even get out of this? I don't care what you people think,” you huff.

“How about I give you each $500 if you win?”

“Do you-” you start.

“AND Mark does your homework for 2 weeks.”

“Hey! I didn't-” mark says

“AND Yuna does your share of the chores at your dorm.”

“WHA-!” yuna argues

"Deal," you quickly say before anyone can finish their complaints.

"Dude, this is not what we discussed,” Mark complains. Johnny whispers to him about something, and he perks up a little as Johnny makes him a promise. "Fine"

Johnny lays down the rules for you two. You and Haechan will both take an aphrodisiac pill and be restricted to the upstairs bedroom. You’ll have to stay in the room with each other for 3 hours, and if you two can withstand the 3 hours without touching each other, you win. If you lose, you both have agreed to play nice with each other or at least around other people.

As soon as you both take the pink pill, Johnny starts the timer. You make your way up the stairs to the bedroom, where you often crash on the weekends. This was definitely not how you thought you would be spending the weekend.

“We’ll come knocking when the time’s up! Yuna yells from downstairs.

You pout playfully and mock her from over the railing of the stairs. She was supposed to be the reasonable one.

“Oh real mature,” Haechan chuckles as he shuffles past you up the stairs. The staircase was really narrow, and you could practically feel his body heat against you as he went. The pills' effects haven't even fully settled in yet, and you're already feeling things you shouldn't. If you were planning on winning, you would have to get it together. Maybe this wasn't as easy as you thought.

As you make your way up the remaining stairs, you see Haechan standing by the door frame, waiting for you. He rolls his eyes. "You're stalling."

You murmur under your breath, "I'll literally give you my half of the money if you shut up for the next three hours," but drag yourself into the room nevertheless.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

The first 20 minutes aren't terrible. You guys make yourselves comfortable on opposite sides of the room and pick a random wall to stare at. As Haechan makes himself comfortable on the room's lone bed, you take a seat on a little bench that lines a sizable window. You're grateful he keeps his mouth shut. This was probably the longest you two have been in each other's presence without speaking.

It wasn't until about 30 minutes in that the effect hit you. Your breathing grew labored, and your blood started to flow through your veins more quickly. Your body started to heat up. To cool down, you placed your face on the window, breathing fogging the glass. When you looked up to see how Haechan was fairing, he was already looking at you with heavy-lidded eyes as his chest expanded with each deep inhale.

As much as he got on your last nerve, you had always thought he was attractive. His tan honey skin that glowed in the sunlight, his pretty moles that you would kill to kiss, and his gorgeous eyes that always made your heart beat just a little harder when he would glare at you whenever you hit a nerve. You loved seeing him worked up, but the few moments you got to see him when he was happy were moments you stored deep in the vault of your heart. You hated him; there was no time for admiring him.

You tried to shove those thoughts away, but It was as though all the thoughts you had been working so hard to suppress had suddenly surfaced. All you could think about was his plump lips and how they would feel on your body. How his fingers would feel encircling your throat, pressing the chilly rings that decorated his hands against your skin. His golden locks flowing through your fingers as you hold him close. You couldn't resist licking your lips at the idea.

“Don't fucking do that,” he abruptly spoke. He closes his eyes and takes a shaky breath. He spreads his legs further, trying to get comfortable in his spot across the room.

You try to fight the urge, but your eyes travel down his body to the bulge in his sweats. You immediately cross your legs at the sight. You had to clutch onto the pillows of the seat you were in; otherwise, you don't think you could stop yourself from crossing the room in a heartbeat.

“What? Can't handle it hyuckie?” You coo at him, using the old nickname you haven't called him since middle school. You had to find some ground in this setting. You couldn't let him see how weak he was making you.

"Out of all the times you pick to be a brat, now is not the time," he grumbles mockingly.

“Why? Am I getting on your nerves? Hmm, I could only wonder what that must feel like,” you sneered. You were so horny, it's pissing you off. You decide Haechan can use a taste of his own medicine, and what better way to blow off steam than to get under his skin?

“Maybe they were right. Maybe you do need a good fuck for you to lose the attitude.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

"Careful," he smirks, licking his lips.

You know that look; he's testing you. He's daring you to say something else.

"That's what I thought," he says, closing his eyes and attempting to control his breathing.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

You're about an hour in, and you can't take it any longer; you're practically rutting against the seam of your jeans, hoping for some kind of friction.

"Please, I can't do this anymore," you cry out for air. You turn to face him, but he doesn't answer. His eyes are closed, and his brows are drawn together as if he's in pain.

“Haechan!” You scream again; this time he slowly opens his eyes, and you suck in a breath as your eyes meet. His pupils were completely blown as sweat pricked his brow.

“Are you giving up?"

You nod in response.

“That's too bad; I still want to win,” he smirks lazily.

"Let's just forfeit; this is stupid!” You stand from where you were seated and head to the door. This prompts Haechan to finally move from his spot as he uses his long legs to cross the room in three wide strides. Before you can open the door, he stops you. For the first time since you two entered the room, he touches you. While keeping his body an arms' length away from you, he is shoving you up against the door by your shoulders. Your body is on fire at the mere touch, and you're grateful for the little bit of space he has given you.

“Calm down. Think this through,” he huffs as if out of breath. “just-just think of the money.”

“I don't care about this stupid bet! I feel like I'm going to explode,” you cry, fighting to escape his hold, but he just pins you back against the door.

“How about I take care of it then? Hmm?” He begs, never breaking eye contact. “I'll take the pain away, baby. Just work with me, yeah?"

"That defeats the point Haechan; we aren't supposed to touch each other; I thought you were smarter than that," you protest, growing increasingly frustrated.

“As long as you keep those gorgeous lips shut, nobody would ever know.” He slowly closes in on you as he speaks. “I help you out, and when we get out of this room, we pretend like nothing happened, and that we still can't stand each other, deal?” He's a breath away. The close proximity, the way he's practically breathing down your neck, and the look in his eyes that tells you he is only about 2 seconds away from devouring you were all you needed to go along with Haechan's scheme.

You stopped listening about halfway through anyway so you nodded mindlessly before closing the remaining space between the two of you. You're pushing off the door and pressing your body against his as you guide him towards the bed. Even though you can both feel your lungs starting to burn, neither of you has the strength to break the kiss. When his legs met the edge of the bed, he sat, giving you both time to regain your breath. He's resting back against his hands, looking up at you, and his legs are spread wide as if he were offering himself to you.

"Come on princess, take whatever you want from me," he smirks as you get into his lap and nestle down against the tent in his pants. You push him until his back is flush against the mattress, then mindlessly grind down on him. You use his chest to steady yourself as you throw your head back and drown in the feeling. You feel Haechan's hands gripping your waist and then traveling up your torso. His hands explored your body as you got lost in each other. Haechan sits up to meet your lips in another passionate kiss. As he deepens the kiss, he clutches your waist tightly to restrict your movements. You whine at the lack of stimulation, but all he can do is smile against your lips in return.

“Be patient baby; let me love on you.”

“This…was…not…a part of…the deal,” you try to finish as he lovingly pecks your lips.

"Didn't I tell you to keep your voice down? Shut up,” he says, ignoring your insistent whining, lavishing your face and neck in wet kisses. Any “loving” he was going to give vanished at your bratty behavior.

“Stop teasing, hyuck seriously. I think I'm going insane.”

You were on the verge of tears at this point; you needed him to give you some type of relief. That's exactly how he wanted you—desperate and needy—not like you already weren't, but he liked to push you to your limits.

“Lay down for me,” he says, releasing his grip on your hips and patting your thigh to signal you to get up. You swiftly move to lay on the bed, and you watch him as he pulls his shirt over his head and takes off his sweatpants, leaving him only in his underwear. He climbs the bed and helps you remove your jeans. As he's tugging the material down your thick thighs, you remove your shirt and bra. He settles between your legs, and you reflexively wrap your legs around his waist. He has to press his palm down against your lower stomach to stop you from grinding against him again.

"You promise to behave?" He prys your legs free from his waist, trapping them against your chest and restricting your movement.

You nod mindlessly, reaching out to grab him and trying to draw him into another kiss, but he pins your hands above your head, using his hips instead to further pin you down.

"Uh-uh princess, use your words," he adds coldly.

“Please hyuck, I promise I'll be good.”

“You going to be a good girl and keep that mouth shut?”

You were exhausted from having to use your brain to come up with a coherent response; you were at your limit. All you could think about was him filling you up, and every second he didn't, it felt like a year of your life span was shaved off. You did cry this time. You were so frustrated with him; he did this all the time. He never plays nice; he always makes you work for it.

"Oh you poor baby," he coos lovingly as he kisses your eyelids and wipes away your tears. "I'm sorry, but I have to hear you say it," he continues.

"I promise to be your good girl; I swear I won't make a sound, please," you sniffle, trying to hold back your tears.

“If I hear one sound, I'm stopping, and you can walk out of this room and finish yourself off, got it?”

You've learned to respond quickly when he asks you a question, so you nod your head with a "yes sir."

This makes Haechan smile wickedly. Who would have guessed that the same brat who walked into the room with him no less than an hour ago could be so obedient? He was definitely never letting you live this down when this was over. He finally decides to take pity on you, kisses down your body, and removes your panties. He threw your legs over his shoulders, and a quick kiss to your inner thigh was all the warning you got before he nuzzled his nose up against your clit as he licked into your entrance. He savored the taste with his tongue before licking up to your clit and sucking it into his mouth. The sounds his mouth made as he devoured you were wet and noisy as he slurped away at your essence.

You were fighting for your life above him. Reaching for a pillow that was just almost out of reach, you used it to smother your sounds. A sharp slap on your outer thigh served as a warning to keep your voice down. It was the only warning you were going to get. Soon the pillow is long forgotten as you gasp for air. Your thighs began to shake as you choked on your moans. Your back arches, and you can feel your eyes begin to roll. You were going to come, and you would have welcomed it with open arms any other time, but you knew how loud you could get. He was not letting up, and you knew if you came like this, you wouldn't be able to hold back the scream that's been dying to echo against the walls.

You try your best to fight it off. You frantically push at his head, begging him with your eyes as you trap your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to bite back moans. He shakes his head no, but the movement simply adds to the pleasure, and you're about to lose it. You try to get away from his mouth by shifting up the bed, but his powerful arms wrap around your thighs and pull you back down onto his mouth.

"Hae-" His look silences you, and your mouth hangs wide in a silent cry as you spasm on his tongue. It was the most intense orgasm you'd ever felt. Once he helps you ride out the wave, he kisses your pussy one more time before pulling away. As soon as he does, you snap your legs shut, still reeling from the orgasm. His face was practically dripping as he stared you down, hungry.

"Better?" he asks, brushing the back of his palm across his face.

"Mhm,” you reply, causing him to raise a brow, "better,” you quickly follow, using your voice.

Your eyes travel down his body until they reach what you’ve been craving for the most. Haechan was harder than you thought could even be possible. His tip was a furious shade of crimson, gleaming in precum. 

"One more baby," he strokes his length before hissing and gripping the base. "Just be my good girl one more time," he begs.

You almost feel bad. The whole time he was teasing you, he was also teasing himself. You're amazed he's maintained this level of self-control up to this point.

“I don't know if I can keep quiet if we continue,” you plead.

“Open your mouth” is all he says as he prys your legs open and settles between them.

You comply, and Haechan shoves your panties into your mouth. You try to object, but he covers your mouth with his palm for added security.

"My turn," he grins before bottoming out inside you. The first few strokes are so deep, you can practically feel him in your stomach. He's trying to keep control; he's trying to be gentle with you because he knows how sensitive you are, but he's slowly losing it. He's going to use you like a doll. His thrusts pick up pace, and all you can hear in the room is skin slapping against skin unforgivingly. The hand around your mouth clamps down harder as he buries his head into your neck.

“Im sorry... fuck” was all you got as he hiked your leg up higher on his waist, trying to hit deeper. His hot breath fanning across your neck and the soft staccato groans he lets out are the only indications that he is close. Your head is in the clouds, and you can't think straight. You barely register the fact that you came again until he bites at your neck to muffle his deep groan at the feeling of your walls tightening down on him. Next thing you know, he's snapped.

He quickly sits up, throwing your leg over his shoulder as he drives his hips down into you, practically fucking you into the mattress until his hips are stuttering. He pulls the panties from your mouth to kiss you in the hopes of drowning out his own sounds of pleasure. His kiss is messy. It's nothing but tongue and teeth as his thrusts grow slopy. He's practically whimpering into your mouth when he cums.He rides out his high before pulling away from your lips. All you can do is stare at each other as you catch your breath. There is a brief moment of silence before you both burst out laughing. He collapses next to you and pulls you close.

“You think they heard that?” he asks, panting.

"Oh, we definitely heard everything." A muffled voice can be heard through the door, and you assume it's Yunas.

You're too sleepy to feel embarrassed as your eyelids begin to droop.

"Don't worry, you two; we'll say you won as long as you don't try to kill each other again." Johnny's muffled voice can be heard next.

"I don't think she'll be able to do much for a while," Haechan muffles. Speaking to your sleeping form more than anyone else.

"I'll get the plan B girl. I gotchu," Yuna voice fades as she walks down the hallway.

She was definitely gonna grill you for the details. She always wanted a run-down play by play of everything that happened.

Soon, you found yourself drifting off to sleep in haechans warm embrace.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Johnny would call his mission a success. You two stopped arguing for the most part, and the group was able to enjoy more peaceful outings without the two of you turning every conversation into a debate. Your friends were fond of your bickering, but at times it could get to be too much. But now that your relationship with Haechan has blossomed into a….situationship? They were running into another problem.

You two fuck like rabbits.

No matter where you were, you two were slipping off to do who knows what or being all touchy-feely with each other, and your friends didn't want to see or hear any of it. But because you two seemed happier, they learned to cope with it. Yuna bought new noise-canceling headphones to use whenever Haechan would spend the night at your dorm. Johnny upgraded the speakers in the house so that when he had a party and you two snuck away, the music could blast louder to drown out your noises. Mark downloaded more mobile games on his phones to ignore you two when you would get all lovey during movie nights.

Haechan still picked on you, but he saved it more for the bedroom, and you still tried to test his patience any chance you got. You didn't know what you two had, but you didn't mind enjoying it while it lasted or even furthering it. You learned a lot more about Haechan and discovered that you two had more in common than you believed. You also learned he could be a real sweetheart sometimes. Maybe your friends were right all along, and maybe Johnny isn't as crazy as you thought. Maybe you didn't have to be better than Haechan all along.

Rushed ending opps

[earthtooz]

x : SLEEPY FAVOUR :*+ﾟ

in which: you've unwillingly become jing yuan's cuddle buddy for his afternoon naps.

warnings: fluff, 700 wc, bad writing lul, established relationship, dialogue-heavy, gn!reader teases a clingy!jing yuan.

a/n: two fics in two days. wow. who am i. enjoy. (i posted an itoshi rin fic yesterday pls feel free to check it out!)

“you cannot keep doing this, jing yuan.”

sitting up to look at the man, your complaint is hushed quickly by the general, who places a hand on your shoulder and pulls you back down into his arms. he wraps himself around you like a vine and you groan at the suffocating sensation. still, jing yuan does not let up, not giving in to your complaints and grumbles as he draws circles on your arm.

“when you messaged me earlier about paying you a visit, i did not anticipate for it to be because you were simply feeling lonely. and clingy,” you sigh and the white-haired laughs.

“then what else?”

“something of value? something that will contribute to the wellness of the luofu?”

“is this not of value?” 

“calling me as your cuddle buddy for your afternoon nap is hardly of value.”

“i object. in fact, i would beg to differ. is the wellbeing of the luofu’s general something to take lightly?”

you huff, turning around in his arms to face him. jing yuan looks at you through half-lidded eyes, fatigue evident in them as he smiles softly. instinctively, your hand reaches to tuck a strand of hair behind of ears and at the graze of your touch, he shuts his eyes, seemingly peaceful and content. 

“flaunting your title, are you?” you ask. “what happened to your humility?”

he’s quick to reply. “gone if it will prevent you from leaving.” 

a smooth talker. your lover, jing yuan, has always had a way with words, laced with carelessness yet drenched in honey, there’s little of him you can resist. even now, you feel your frustration subsiding with one simple comment.

“and why should the general have a few hours of the day just to slack off?” you ask. “your afternoon naps can wait, luofu’s safety shouldn’t.”

“you say that, yet how many centuries of peace have we lived through?”

“why is everything i’m saying only inflating your ego?” then, just to spite him, you pull your hand away and his eyes open at the lack of contact that grounds him to a realm of peace and comfort. immediately missing your warmth, jing yuan finds your wrist and moves it to rest on his face once more. 

you don’t give him the satisfaction, hoping to give him a piece of your mind by once again, retracting your hand out of his hold and his sleepy gaze darkens into something akin to displeasure.

“won’t you indulge in me?” questions the cloud-knight. “i have worked so hard today already, i have been looking forward to taking an afternoon nap.”

“and is that not possible without me?”

he shakes his head with the temperament of a child and a pout to match. what will the court think when they see this side of your feared and revered lover? “ever since you rest with me that day, no, and i will never go back.”

where did his perseverance go?

“you suggest these things as if i am not busy myself. i cannot listen to your every request and demand when i have mountains of work to complete too!”

“i have requested that they be pushed back until later. your schedule has been cleared out for the next few hours.”

“jing yuan!” you exclaim, pushing him away lightly. “you cannot do that!”

“i can, and i have.”

before you can even utter another word, jing yuan has rolled over to lie on top of you, placing half of his weight on you to act as an anchor, effectively preventing you from moving anywhere.

the press of his muscles against you and the tightening of his arms around your torso are like cannonballs against your determination, and considering that he discarded his armour the moment you stepped through the door, it’s only fair if you do the same.

“come on, my love, do you not care for your general?” he asks, borderlining a whine. 

“fine.” you surrender, finally wrapping your arms around him as well. “only because i want him to be at top performance.”

“what about your lover? don’t you wish for any benefits for him too?” 

“he is of lesser importance,” you tease. “in fact, he should suffer for what he puts me through.”

jing yuan chuckles and his laugh reverberates into your heart. “i would hate to be him, then."

"watch yourself, jing yuan."

"of course, anything for you," murmurs the white-haired before he finds purchase in the bend of your neck. surrounded by you, he wordlessly dozes off without a care in the world.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[hidden-poet]

Animal

Synopsis: After visiting a bathhouse Logan meets you, and the animal within him starts clawing out.

Warnings: not canon, dark!, non-con, a little bit of romantisation of things that should not be romanticized, kidnapping, Dark!logan(jimmy? james?), dom/sub vibes, spanking, female reader who is described quite a bit, rough sex, graphic sex, basically born with little plot, unedited and written in a couple of hours, dead dove to not eat.

AN: Something awoken within me. I never really cared for Wolverine, but suddenly I am binging all the movies. I don't really understand them so this will definitely not make sense to those who follow the fandom.

Word count: 12, 418

Logan walks through the city. People part as he storms through the path. Hearing the sound of his heavy boots as they thud against the concrete. 

If his large frame wasn’t enough to warn off people, his scowl was. He didn’t even know what city he was in. Xavier sends him off to eliminate out of control mutants. Given the urgency, he is often sent without a goodbye, let alone a debrief. 

He knew he was somewhere foreign. All the signs were in a different language with the english translation printed small underneath. 

One of them read ‘bathhouse’ in bright red neon sign. He looks at the dirt caked under his nails. The final battle with the latest mutant took place in the forest. 

He could feel small leaves in his hair, and dried mud clinging to his body. 

A nice, hot, relaxing bath may elevate some of the tension he always carried with him, so he walks up the steps into the large stone building. 

A lady in a robe greets him. The place is dark, only lit by a few strategically placed lamps. The front counter is placed in the entryway to the baths, and is sectioned by a large maroon colored wall that offers the men bathing privacy. 

“How can I help you?” the woman asks.

“I’d like a bath”, he responds. His eyes go to view the bath that beckons him. 

“Communal or private?”.

Logan looks around at the men in towels, lounging by the large pool. An elderly man takes off his towel to reveal nothing underneath, and steps into the steaming water. 

“Private”, Logan answers, “please”.

She gives him a sly smile, asking him to follow her. 

He is brought along the pool where men swam nude, and women who wore thick robes served them drinks, and cigars. 

At the back of the communal bathing area there was a long stretch of red doors that were numbered in large golden letters. He follows her to door seven

The woman knocks on the door once before turning back to logan. 

“Just through this door when you are ready”. With a sly smile she looks him up and down before returning to her hosting station. 

“Ah-yeah, thanks”, he comments. 

Muttering under his breath, he twists the door knob and takes a step inside, wanting nothing more than to wash away his adventure. 

His hand clinches the door knob, his claws begging to come out upon hearing someone on the other side. 

Had someone been following him? Another mutant, buddies with the one he had killed?

He lunges through the door, ready to face anyone willing. It startles him when he sees a young girl. 

Your hair was blown out to give it volume, and styled in an effortlessly curled way. Your dress was short and black. The halter neck tied together behind your long neck, and was cut down to the middle of your chest. The thin material only reached your upper thigh. Your lipstick was a dark red, matching your pointed shoes. You looked ready for a club, not a bath. 

You push yourself back into a chest of draws, surprised at his entrance. 

“shit”, Logan turns from you, training his eyes to the ground. It felt wrong to look at you. “Sorry, i was told to come in here”. 

“You were told correctly”, you state, “I am ready for you”. 

Your voice was low and seductive, making Logan hard under his jeans.

“Ready for me?” Logan questions. He feels his brows furrow, the sweat that he had accumulated started to run down his forehead. 

“This is a bathhouse”,you state, “You got a private room. You get bathed in private rooms”. 

You seemed as confused as he was. 

He looks at you stunned. His cock ached in his jeans to think of you bathing him. But you were young. Young, pretty, and naive. What were you doing here, giving baths to dirty old men like him. He couldn’t have it. Couldn’t be a part of it. 

His other side begged him to have a bath, and enjoy your touch, but he didn’t want to do anything that he would regret. The animal side of him was hard to contain. He was sure you would pull the wrong string, and the restraint he had built would come undone. 

He couldn’t even bring himself to bid you goodbye. All his will power went to turning back to the door. 

“Wait” you call out. He freezes immediately, and looks over his shoulder at you. 

“Is there something wrong with me?” you ask. His heart sunk at your question. He didn’t mean to offend you. 

“Am I not desirable enough for you?”, you continue. 

“God, no” he states, shutting the door firmly behind him as he turns. He didn’t want anyone passing to see you through the door. “No, you’re anything but undesirable”.

You blush but remain in your seductive composure. Your hand waves him forward, and his feet shuffle to your command. 

“Well then stay. If they see you walk out, i’ll get in trouble. Men start walking out of my bathhouse, and they might turf me”, you state. 

“Look, baby, I am just looking for a bath,” you eye the water so he continues to explain, “a bath alone. Without the help of a young woman, no matter how they look”.

“You don’t seem the nervous kind”, you provoke. 

“I ain’t” he defends. 

“How about this, I won’t look”. You spin around and face the wall, covering your eyes with your hand. “You can take a bath without my help, and I won’t get fired. Win, win”. 

He thinks about it. With you facing away, and not touching him, what harm could be done? He would be doing you a favor. 

“You sure you can restrain yourself?” he flirts. 

Your giggle echoes off the wall to his ear. 

“I am sure”.

Logan strips, leaving his clothes on the tiled floor, and entering the marble tub centered in the room. The water is steaming, and works to unknot his mussels. 

He moans as he sinks into the water. 

“Feel good?”, you ask. 

His cock twitches at your words. He struggles to keep his voice even as he answers. 

“Yeah”. 

“I am y/n”, you comment, bringing your hand down to face the red wall. 

“Is that your real name?”, he asks. He shouldn’t care what your real name was, but he did. 

“Yeah”, you respond. He listens for your heart beat as you answer. It never falters so it was the truth, or a lie that had become the truth. Either way it was good enough for him. 

“Logan”, he gives. 

“In town for business or pleasure, Logan?”, you ask. 

Your butt was three inches from the bottom of your dress. It curved around the material. Logan wanted to jump up from the water, and bite into it. 

“Business” he answered absentmindedly. He forces himself to look away and up to the ceiling. 

Your heartbeat was even. You weren’t scared of him. It comforted him to know. 

“What do you do?”. The question irked him. 

“Nothing good”, he spat. 

You let out a breathy laugh as if he had told a bad joke.

“Men who do ‘nothing good’ aren’t afraid of young women in bathhouses”, you jest. 

“Well I suppose I do bad things for a good cause”, he admits. 

Although it never felt like a good cause. Only some of the mutants he killed deserved it. Most of them were only confused and scared. They were too dangerous to be allowed a second chance at reasoning. Like a wild dog, they had to be put down. 

It would have made Logan feel better if he didn’t enjoy the fight. 

“What bad things for a good cause?”. 

Logan slides further into the water, trying to shield himself from your questioning. 

‘Is this a bathhouse or a police station?” he bit. His voice was hard, and carried a commanding tone that made your heart skip. 

He wanted to apologize, but you beat him to it. 

“I am sorry. I am not used to talking to the clients. I overstepped”,  you confess. 

 “Have you worked here long?”. 

He wanted to turn the attention back on you, but he chose the wrong path. The last thing he wanted to hear was you admitting to washing men.

The image of you bathing other old men angered him. His claws dug through the bones in his hand, itching to come to the surface. 

“A year”. It seemed like you were content in your workplace, but Logan fights to keep his claws under his skin. He splashed his hands under the water, worried that you would turn and see him in his mutated state. 

You shuffle slightly, angling yourself so you were always turned to him. You move off the wall, back over to the door. Logan watches you, his body shifting to hide himself if you decide to look. His member was hard under the clear water. He didn’t want you to think he was some sort of pervert. 

“Hey”, he calls, watching you move to pick up his clothes. Your hand shielded your eyes to him in the tub, “What are you doing?”. 

You separate his room key, wallet from his jean pocket and place them next to his shoes before picking up his clothes, and turning your back once more. Moving to the far wall where a washer and dryer were stored under a sink. 

“It’s part of the service. I wash your clothes for you”, you state. 

“Just leave them” he commands, “they are fine”.

You ignore him, throwing the clothes in the machine, and starting the cycle. 

“You’re paying for it”. 

You crouch in your high heels as you dispense the detergent into the washing machine on the floor before rising back up, but you don’t turn. Talking to him through the shared space rather than at him. 

“Do you mind if I sit at the vanity?”, you ask him. 

“No. Sit where you are comfortable”.

Your eyes train at the walls of the room as you slide along to the vanity set in the corner. You stop just before you get to the mirror, and kick off your heels so you could drag the seat with your foot over to you. You sat facing the wall like a child on time-out. 

He notices without your shoes, you were quite small. A small, pretty thing in a house of old men who wouldn’t need to be twice your size to overpower you. It didn’t sit right with logan. 

“So, how did you end up here?” he asks. 

“What this, a bath house or a police station”, you joke. 

He stifles a laugh. He didn’t mind a bit of cheek. 

“Fair enough’’, he relents, “Just tell me if any of these old guys ever caused you any trouble?”. 

Just as he claws retreat, they shoot back again. If your answer was yes, he was going to find out who, and where after his bath. 

But you shake your head no. 

“We have a button that calls for help. As soon as I get a bad feeling I press the button and they are thrown out”. 

You were intuitive like him. He wondered if it was a survival technique you were forced to pick up. He wanted to know why, but knew it was none of his business. 

Instead, he picks up a cloth and runs the cooling water over his skin. He was right, mud stuck to his chest hairs, along with dried blood. 

“You, uh, press that button a lot?” he pries. 

“Enough times to know when I should”. Your voice had lost its seductive tone as it hardened. 

“Maybe you should quit. Do something else”, he suggests. 

He would love for you to do something else. Something outside of harm's way. You were a grown woman who could decide what she wanted. He had no right to tell you what to do, but he wanted you to listen to him.

“Only one of us hates their job”. 

“You like this?”, his voice came out too angry. Your heart skipped another beat as he raised his voice at you. 

“You like touching dirty old men? Help them get off?”, he bites his tongue to the point of blood to stop himself talking to you this way.  

“No one gets off. I bathe them and send them on their way. Most of them are just lonely”.

“Lonely”, Logan scoffs, pushing the water away from him. But you were right. Logan was lonely. A dirty, old, lonely man wanting to taste your young flesh. 

How many other dirty, old, lonely men wanted to do the same? How many times would you be able to get to the button to press for help before it was too late? 

He wanted to protect you. To have his place in protecting you. Something about you drew him in. The animal called for him to throw you over his shoulder, and take you from his place in all his stark naked glory. But you were no one to him. He had only met you by mistake five minutes ago. 

Your heart rate was too fast. He had succeeded in scaring you. If his clothes weren’t washing, he was sure you would have kicked him out. 

He sighs, bringing his hands to the side of the tub. 

“Darl, I am sorry. I just hate to think of a pretty young thing like you here without anyone looking out for you”.

“I look out for me, Logan”, you declare. 

He nods his head, almost in disbelief. He rests the back of his head against the hard marble, causing the water to swish as he moves. 

“There’s shampoo on the caddy. You should wash your hair. I noticed that some of it was stuck together”, you comment. 

He was thrown across the forest floor just last night. He must have taken a harder hit than he realized. 

“I can do it if you want?”, you offer. 

“No. No. You stay right there” he demands. His hands itched to pull you in the bathtub with him. He wanted you to stay as far away as possible. 

As he squirts the small bottle of shampoo into his hands, the washing machine rings out a tune to signal it was done. 

“I’ll throw your clothes in the dryer” you declare. 

He watches as you move again over to the machine, and kneel to transfer the clothes into the dryer.  

Your bare feet make a nice sound against the tiles. Logan notices that your little toes were painted a dark red, and your fingers were perfectly shaped and painted the same color. 

He supposed a woman of your profession, maintenance was important. He pretended for a second that wasn’t the case. That instead, you were his little woman. 

He had come home after a long day of lumberjacking like he used to do, and you were fussing over him. The thought remained only for a second before he shook it off. 

Everyone he loved died. A little thing like you didn’t stand a chance in his life. 

“I hope you like the scent of vanilla”, you remark. 

He grunts in response, dipping under the water to wash the shampoo out of his hair. It felt lighter as a rose from the water. It was due for a good wash. 

He begins with a conditioner while he watches you lean against the counter of the sink instead of returning to your seat. His fingers dug into his scalp, pushing the liquid into his hair. 

“Do you have a girlfriend? Is that why you don’t want me to look?”, you ask. 

“No girlfriend. No wife. No dog”, he washes the soap from his hands, “I honestly didn’t know what I was signing up for”.

“Are you glad you signed up for it?”, your seductive tone returned from its disappearance. 

“The view has been nice”, he returns. 

“If you like my back, you should my front”. 

His hands curled into fists. If anything had been in his hands, it would have been snapped in two. 

“If i see your front, you might not see the light of day again”. 

His eyes shut in rhythm with your heart skipping. 

“Fuck. no. I didn’t mean” he began to justify but had nowhere to go. He had meant what he said, the way he said it. 

“All this talk of protection from dirty, old men. Did you mean you?”.

Your voice didn’t sound scared, but your heart beat faster than it had all night. 

Logan rises from the tub with conditioner still weighing down his hair. 

“Look, how long until my clothes are ready?”.

“Ten minutes”, you answer.  

He couldn’t wait ten minutes. He had to leave now.

“Just give them to me”, he demands. 

“There's still ten minutes”, you complain. 

“Give them to me, now!” his voice rose at you once more. 

You jump as he yelled at you, quickly moving to pull the wet clothes from the machine and throw them backwards towards him. 

They don’t go far enough from you and Logan is forced to get too close for his liking to dress himself. 

He pulls his wet shirt on himself, the long sleeves stick to his skin as he yanks it on. 

“Keep facing forward. Don’t turn around”, he orders. 

“But” you begin. He can see you slow movement to turn around so he gently shoves you in the right direction. 

“Listen to me. Face the wall”. His voice was angry again, commanding you to stay still. 

The jeans didn’t want to go on wet. With his harsh, and quick movements it felt like he was in a fight. He does eventually get them on, only bothering to do up his button and not his zip. 

He doesn’t bother putting on his socks. Keeping them in his hand while he picks up his wallet, shoes, and keys from the floor. 

The jiggling of the keys gives way to his plan of escape. 

“You still have fifteen minutes”, you state not moving from your position on the wall.

He wondered why you cared that he was leaving early. Did you not want him to get away from you? Or where you wondered about his reaction if he found out he was cut short?

“It doesn’t matter”, he barks as he makes a quick bee line to the door. 

He pauses once he reaches it. The water pools at his feet as he turns to look at you once more. 

“I am sorry” he comments. 

He races back down towards the door he came in through. Everybody stares at his dripping state. Some men laugh quietly among themselves. He could still hear your elevated heart beat in room seven. 

“Hey! Hey!” a voice calls behind him. 

In his agitated state he was ready to rip their head off. He turns to do it to see the lady who greeted him. 

“You still pay full price”, she demands. 

“Huh? Yeah”. He steamrolled over her to the counter, pulling out his wallet. 

His focus turns to the hallway expecting you to appear, but from what he could see your door never opened. 

He taps his bank card without looking at the price. Xavier kept him comfortable for his work. 

He leaves without approval, bumping back into the crowd of people as he makes his way back on the path. 

Soaking wet, and barefoot, he makes his way back to his small apartment. 

His claws dig underneath his skin, wanting to come out despite there being no threat. He fails to make it to the bed, laying on the carpet floor instead. 

Your name repeats in his mind. 

—---------------------------

He tries to forget you for the next three days. He was supposed to be back by now, but he couldn't bring himself to leave. 

Xavier called him every hour to be sent straight to voicemail. 

Logan walked the city, often finding himself walking along the front of the bathhouse. He never goes in, but listens for your voice, and breathes deep to smell your faint scent.

You didn’t talk much to your clients. A few flirty comments when they first arrived, but then silence as you completed your work. 

You didn’t talk to them like you talked to him, and that had to mean something. 

The worst part was not knowing exactly what you were doing. He loved to hear the beeping of the machine as you pressed the buttons, because at least that meant you weren’t touching them. 

Even in his best efforts he couldn’t manage to walk away. He knows he should. There were plenty of other mutants that needed to be put down. 

He should continue with his life, and you yours. 

He couldn’t keep you. He could barely keep the kids at the mansion alive, and they all had powers to protect themselves. 

He would be throwing you in the line of fire. A fire that he might not be able to protect you from. 

You would grow old too. Unless he could figure out a way to keep you young. Could Xavier know of a way? He was sure that he could protect you from everything but time. He would need some help. A connection to someone who could slow down time in adjacent to him. 

He grunts as he drives his claw into his right thigh. He lets out a painful laugh as he pounds his fist into the brink building he was hiding behind. 

The brick crumbled under his fist. A reminder of what he could do to you without even intending it. He would only need to make a mistake once. 

He was worried about protecting you from others, when he should have been worried about protecting you from him. 

He was no good for you, even if you would be very good for him. He was destined to live out his life alone. A punishment for his ability. 

Maybe a goodbye would help him. If he could leave you with a nice impression instead of an old, dirty man, maybe he could leave. 

He crosses the sea of people to the steps of the building. He could hear you as you said goodbye to your client, and drained the water from the tub. 

He waits by the bottom of the step until the man came down and passed him before entering. 

Was this a place where you made appointments? How long would he have to wait to see you again? He wondered. 

It was a different lady at the counter which alleviated some of Logan's anxiety. 

She greets him in the same manner as the other lady. 

“I was after a private bath with y/n. Would she be available?”.

The woman looks at her computer before smiling up at him. 

“You’re in luck. She just finished up. Follow me”. 

Logan wished he dressed nicer. Put on some cologne, brushed his hair. 

Your scent became stronger the closer he got, it seemed to ease his nerves. 

The women knocks three times on the door, and Logan's hand goes to reach for the knob prematurely. 

“Just a second”, you call out. 

“She won’t be long”, the woman addresses Logan, who drops his hand away. 

With a nod and a smile the woman returns to her desk, and Logan waits by the door for you. He ran over what he was going to say, but when you swung the door open he had forgotten his opening line. 

“I never expected to see you again” you state. 

“Me either”, he responds.

To his surprise you step back from the door to allow him in. He quickly takes the invite, shutting the door behind him. 

You were dressed in another black dress. This one had thick straps and an appropriate neckline but an open back that scooped down as far as possible. 

“I wanted to apologize”, he expresses.

You tested the running water with your hand as you listened to him. 

“You are far from my worst customer”, you revel. 

You don’t look at him as you add bubbles to the bath. 

“Still, what I said” Logan pauses under your stare before continuing, “What i did was uncalled for”. 

You smile a pretty smile at him almost as if you were laughing at him. 

“Well, you’re forgiven. Now did you want me to face the wall again?”, you ask. 

Logan twists on his spot. “I ain’t looking for a bath. Just to apologize”. 

“Have one” you insist. 

You walk over to him, taking his belt into your hands. He catches your wrist to stop you from taking it off. 

“You got me in trouble last time”, you tell him, “You’re not supposed to walk out scared and wet. If you walk out now in less than a minute they’ll wonder what I did”.

“Well I owe you two apologies”, he states.

“If you're looking to apologize, get in the tub”.

He feels you pull out of his hold, and he lets you make distance so you could spin around. 

His self-restraint wasn’t that strong so he rids himself of his clothes and hides under the bubbles in the tub. 

Hearing the water splash, you turn to him. 

With the weight of his adamantium bones the water rises to the top and you quickly go to turn off the tap. 

You kick off your shoes, leaving them at the faucet and walk back up to the top of the tub. 

“I can’t see anything”, you console as you kneel down beside him. 

He reaches his hand out to take your chin between his thumb and forefinger. 

“You’re a world of hurt for me, bub”.

“Your world only lasts fifty minutes”, you tease. 

You move out of his touch to go behind him. Your small fingers squeeze his big shoulders. He relaxes under your touch as you work your way along his shoulders to his neck and back. 

“Feels good, bub” he praises. 

“Feels good?” you repeat.

Your hands trail down his chest, reaching for the top of the water. His hands catch yours before they could immerse under. 

“Don’t” he warns. 

“Okay. I am sorry” you apologize, tugging your hands free and back up to his neck, “I’ll stay above water”.

He found it hard to relax again. He felt vulnerable, naked under your touch. It would be better if you too were naked. It would make it less embarrassing when you realized he was hard under the water.

“I’ll put your clothes in the wash” you say. 

He reaches out behind him for you to stop you moving away.

“No. Keep going”, he protests. 

You don’t go to move again. Your fingers continue to massage him until he relaxes once more. 

Only then do you stop to reach for the shampoo bottle in front of him. You squirt it into your hands, and then massage it into his head. 

He falls back against the tub, loving the feeling of your hands twisting in his hair. 

You do it for longer than necessary seeing that he liked it.

Your fingers roll in a circle on the side of his head, causing him to groan at the feeling. 

His claws push up, moving the bones of his hands. It was painful every time but Logan had gotten used to the feeling. He flexes his fingers in an attempt to dissuade them from coming through. 

You must have noticed the grimace on his face as he forces the metal back into his hand because you stop massaging and reach for the cup to rinse his hair. 

You’re careful not to get it into his eyes, smoothing back the hair as the water and soap runs off. He could see why men pay for this. 

He takes your hand not holding the cup and forces it against his cheek as he lays back. With his eyes closed he breathes softly against your skin. 

“Are you okay?” you ask him. 

“I am worried I’ll never be okay again”, he admits. 

“You’re tough. I can see it” you flip your hand so your palm is pressed against his cheek, “You’ll be okay”. 

You drop the cup next to him, and reach for the conditioner. He is grateful that you allow him to rest against your hand as you massage it into his head. 

You try your best to get his whole head but his position made it difficult. 

"You know you don’t have a scar over you”, you mention. 

“Soft living’”, he jokes, although it was only funny to him. 

As you leave the conditioner to soak, you pick up a clean rag and begin to scrub his skin. 

Disappointment fills him when he feels you trying to release your hand from under him. He could have kept it stuck there but chooses to raise his head. 

You lift up his arm and scrub under his armpit, and along his side. Carefully not to scrub any skin under the water. 

You move onto the next and he laughs at you. 

“The full treatment here”. 

You smile back as you continue to work. 

“$300 should get you the full treatment”, you utter. 

“$300? Christ, that’s a year's worth of cigars”, he remarks. 

“You smoke?” you ask him. He feels your hands push him forward so he leans for you to wash his back. 

“Like a chimney” he honestly admits, “You get $300 an hour?”. 

You were done with his back so he leans against the tub again. 

“No” you state as you reach for the cup that had sunken under the water. You stop yourself before your hand goes under. “Would you mind passing me the cup?”. 

“Oh yeah”, he remarks, reaching down into the water and bringing up your cup. 

You take it from him and begin to rinse his hair. 

“No, I make $150 an hour. The house makes half”.

“Still pretty good. Maybe I am in the wrong line of business”, Logan quips playfully. 

“Maybe you are” you jest back, “You never did tell me what you did”.

“I told you. Bad things”, he pulls up out of your hold. He didn’t want to tell you what he did. What he was. 

“Are you always this tense?” you ask him. 

“Yes” was the short, curt reply. 

With a final squeeze of your fingers against his neck, you move down to the bottom of the bath. Slowly you reach for his soapy feet that were propped up against the end of the tub. When he doesn’t object, you take it as permission and begin to massage his feet.

His head makes a heavy thud as it falls back into the marble. It had been a long time since he had ever felt this good.

When he hears you begin to speak, he lifts his head back up to have eye contact with you.

“What made you come back?”, you question. 

He feels you apply more pressure to his foot as you ask. Something about the question made you nervous. 

“You”, he answers honestly, “i didn’t want you to think I was a prick”. 

Your lips curve into a smile at him, and Logan feels his heart twist. 

“I didn’t think you were a prick”, you say. 

“You’d be the first”, he huffs.  

Relief floods him. He wanted to ask if you thought he was a dirty, old man but he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer. 

No more conversation interrupts the peace. Logan allows himself to relax into the water while you dig your fingers into his flesh. He lets out soft groans to let you know that he appreciated what you were doing. 

All too soon, your strong fingers stop pushing into the soft flesh of his foot. His head shoots back up automatically out of his relaxed composure. 

His wet hair sticks to his forehead, and the steam from the bath had begun to sweat his skin. He looked like a wild animal, while you looked put together as always. 

With your make-up perfectly placed and not a hair out of place. He would love to see you disheveled. A whining mess underneath him as he teased another orgasim from you. But tonight would be the last night he would ever see you. 

You would go on, find a nice man to marry and have children to. Die of old age when your time comes. 

Logan would go his separate way. Keep living well past what he desired. With no purpose, and dying friends. 

You rise from your knees, and he watches you as you retrieve a towel from a warming rack and bring it back over. 

With your body half turned to him, you hold out his towel. 

“Get out and I’ll dry your hair”, you offer. 

He takes the towel, and you walk over to your vanity as he rises from the water and wraps the towel around his waist. 

He follows you, taking a seat when you tell him to. 

You look at him in the mirror as you plug your hairdryer in. Once you began to maneuver the device around his head, your eyes followed but his remained staring at you in the mirror. 

Sitting directly in front of you, he could see the actual size difference. You were half of him if that. 

You said you looked out for you, but how would that be possible? You weren’t anything special. Were you a mutant too? Or just a naive little girl who had never faced any real danger. 

Maybe it would be best if he were to take you. Danger lurks everywhere. He could take you home. Make sure nothing bad ever happened to you. 

The bones in his knuckles separated and the metal began to break skin but as the sound of the hairdryer cut, his claws retracted back in. 

He couldn’t take you. He was old enough to be your great grandfather. What had happened to him that he was thinking these thoughts? Has loneliness finally caught up with him after a century of being alive?

Your fingers snake up through his hair again, itching his scalp and the thoughts of taking you returned. 

“There, all dry” you state. 

The sound of a timer goes off, startling Logan who was expecting something wrong from the sudden noise. 

“That’s our five minute warning” you tell him. 

The forty-five minutes went too quickly. He would never see you again, or at least he had promised himself he would never see you again. 

You gather his clothes for him and throw them over a blind. 

“You can get dressed behind that”.

He nods his head. Moving quickly to cover himself again. 

These thoughts were relentless telling him not to go. She couldn’t stop you from staying, no one could. His conscience told him. But he needed to leave your presence before he did something he couldn’t just apologize for. 

Maybe some distance would help. He had been away from home too long. He just needed to return home and live comfortably for a while. Focus on the kids at school. 

He makes sure his jeans were properly done up, and that his shirt and jacket were the right way before returning from behind the blind. 

You were by the vanity chair, back on your knees with his shoes next to you. 

You smile at him and pat the chair. Telling him without words to come to you. 

He follows your request sitting down in front of you. You came up to his thigh in height. 

“I can do it” he states. 

“Full service” you reply. 

He feels the wood of the chair cracking under his hands so he moves it to the top of his thigh in a tight ball. 

You’re gentle as you place the socks on his feet, followed by his shoes. You even do up the laces for him despite the end timer going off two minutes prior. 

You rise from the floor, taking his hand to lead him to the door. 

“Will I see you again?” you ask him. 

“No” he promises but taking another look at you, he wonders if he can follow through. 

“Well, goodbye then, Logan”, you gently say. 

“Goodbye, y/n” he returns. 

He tears himself away from your door, walking the same quick pace back to the front counter where he throws his card on the desk and pushes his way back into the busy street. 

His instinct told him to go back, he had to fight against it the whole way home. 

—--------------------

He thought distance was the answer, but his heart ached to go get you. No amount of alcohol or pills satisfied it. 

Everyone knew something was wrong. He got sick of everyone asking him what happened on his trip. If he was okay. If he wanted to talk. 

He had gotten more aggressive than usual. Things that he could normally brush off, now end with someone pinned against the wall by their throat. 

Xavier tried his best to get into Logan's head but his resolve would not soften. No one would understand how he felt. No one would justify the measures he was willing to go. 

He booked a flight only a month later. Every day was spent thinking of you until he broke. He was a hero. Saved people daily. What was one life if it meant he was able to save countless others.

He books a room, the closest and cheapest to the bathhouse. He could smell you from here now that he had locked onto your scent. 

The old bed creaked under his weight as he struggled with himself. With his head in his hands, he grumbled to himself. 

He shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be thinking these things to himself. It wasn’t too late to turn around. Nothing had been done that couldn’t be undone. 

But then he heard it. Your sweet voice welcoming a man into your door. His feet took off before he could stop them. It was only a short distance of a block to the bathhouse. 

The street was busy no matter the time of day, but much like when he first walked down it people parted to let him through. 

When he grips the door knob it shatters underneath his hand. So he is more gentle when he pushes the door open. 

A new woman greets him cautiously but he ignores her going straight to your room. The woman yells at him as he walks. One brave man tried to stop him and ended up thrown half a meter into the pool. 

No one bothers him after that. He could hear the water move as you washed the man. 

Knowing he will break the door knob, he instead pushes the door open, snapping the lock. 

You gasp hearing the impact, and look at him startled. The position was compromising. You were sitting back on your heels scrubbing the man's back wearing the same halter neck slut dress that you wore when he first met you. 

“Logan?” you question, “What are you doing?”. 

The man rises from the tub, unashamed by his naked state. 

“Get out”, Logan growls. 

“Listen buddy, I paid the full-” the man stops his sentence when the claws emerge from logans hands. 

You shrink back to the floor, using your hand to keep you upright. 

“Get out”, he repeats. 

This time the man scrambles to the door, running past Logan without his clothes. 

You try to follow suit but Logan's long claws block you from your exit. 

You stare at the shiny metal, your face reflecting back at you. 

“You’re coming with me”, Logan states, putting away his claws so he could take you by the arm. 

“Let go of me” you beg, trying to pull your arm from his grip. 

He leads you to the chaos of the bathhouse. Word had spread that a mutant had entered the building and now people ran for cover. 

“Let go. No!”, you scream.

 You pull your arm too harshly in his hold, he could hear the muscles in your arm straining under the pressure. He loosens his grip so not to hurt you, but brings you closer to his chest.  

“Stop it, kid” he demands, “You’re going to hurt yourself”. 

“Stop, logan. Please, just let me go”. Your heart was fast, and your eyes dripped with tears. 

He reaches up to touch your face but a gunshot pierces his body before it lands. An annoyed groan rubbles from his throat, and he pushes you away from the line of fire. 

Another bullet lands in his chest when he turns to see a man in a robe holding a shaking gun. 

He dodges the next shot, stalking forward to the frozen man, he grabs the gun out of his weak hold and sends him to the floor with a headbutt. 

Tossing the gun aside, he turns to see you no longer in your spot. You couldn’t have made it to the door in that short of time, and your scent was still strong in the room. 

He follows it behind the bar to where he saw you squeezed into a tight corner. 

“Hey, bub” he tries his best to use a soft voice, “we gotta go. Come on”. 

He reaches for you, but you push his hands away. 

“Come on” he says more forcefully. He reaches for your waist and not your arm to avoid hurting you. 

You thrash against him, begging him to let you go. 

He allows it until you reach the front door then he extracts a single claw from his hand that crossed your stomach. 

“Walk” he demands. 

He manoovers himself so he was behind you with a hand on your stomach and his claw pressed into your side. 

You allow him to walk you down the steps and through the crowd, back to his apartment. You were too scared to say anything. Some people gave you a strange look as you passed them crying but no one stopped to help. 

“You’re alright. I ain't going to hurt you”, he promises. 

He would never hurt you. As soon as you had managed to make your way through the crowd, Logan retracts his claw completely, instead placing both his strong hands on your hips to keep you moving forward. 

“Almost there. Atta girl, just keep moving”. He encourages. 

The dim lights of his hotel came into view. The vacancy sign buzzed allowing small flashes of light in an otherwise dark street. 

He could see fine given his heightened ability, but knew that your lack of senses must be adding to your anxiety. 

“Alright, this way”, he takes your wrist into his hand, trusting that you would follow him up the metal stairs. 

Your heel snagged on the step. Without Logan's hold you would have been sent flying forward. 

“Sorry” you gasp, trying to let him know that it was an honest stumble and not a deliberate act on your part. 

“Are you hurt?”, he steps down to your level, throwing your arm over his shoulder while he bends down to take off your shoes, “Let's take these off”.

He holds them in his hand, and your waist in the other and continues to lead you up. 

“Come on, we are almost there. Just down the end”. 

You reach the top of the stairs and he leads you to the end of the corridor. Stopping at the door that peeled with paint while he digs in his pockets for his key. 

He opens the door, quickly pushing you inside and shutting it again. 

“Here sit” he suggests. 

With his hands off you, he turns on the bedside lamp so you could see.

You do take a seat on the bed, and Logan stands in front of you. 

“You’re a mutant?” you finally say. 

“Yeah” he admits with a hard tone. 

“Are you going to kill me?”, you whisper. 

“Christ, no”, he kneels down in front of you so he could be in your eyesight, his hands caged around your legs on the mattress. 

“Y/n, I am one of the good guys”, his own words froze him. His eyes cast down to where your dress has risen dangerously high up your thigh. His finger traces up from your knee to your dress hemline. 

“Not that you are going to believe that after I am done with you” he says more to himself than you. 

“What are you going to do?”, you quake. 

He rises himself enough to place a gentle kiss on your lips. 

“Whatever I want”,  he whispers against your lips. 

He pushes you as gently as he can into the mattress. Using his body weight to cement your place under him. 

“Get off”, you complain the second his lips are off you. 

“I can’t” Logan protests. His lips go to your neck, biting down harshly. He intended to leave a mark. A claim of sorts for the world to see. 

He may have bitten down too harshly, as you push against his face with your hands. 

He can hear your heartbeat as it thumps in your chest. It stills him in the crook of your neck. 

He didn’t want to scare you. 

“I am sorry”, he admits softly into your skin. 

He places a soft kiss on the sore he had just created, and reaches to untie the knot of fabric around your neck. 

Your hand reaches up to catch the fabric as it falls, holding it over your breasts. 

He moves on, hooking his fingers around the elastic of your underwear, and pulling them off onto the floor. 

“It’s alright, just breathe”, he concludes. 

You keep your eyes shut, and your breaths manic. 

In an effort to make you more comfortable, he lifts you up by your armpits and places you in the center of the bed. He changes positions to match yours, straddling you on the bed while he moves the pillows under your head, and by your sides. 

You lay there frozen with your eyes squeezed shut, while he removes his clothes on top of you. 

You feel his attention return when his lips press down on yours, his hand gently on the side of your face. 

“Open your eyes, and look at me”, he commands in a low whisper. 

You are met with his face, and bare shoulders peering over you. 

“There she is”, he grins a beautiful smile as he brushes his thumb along your cheek. 

His lips go to yours again before trailing down to your neck, and chest. 

His hands met your on the fabric of your chest, and he tugs it down, bunching the dress around your hips. 

A kiss is placed at the top of your breast activating your fight. 

You tried to push against him but he was too heavy to even shift. 

“Easy” he tells you, “take it easy. It’s alright”.

He comes back up to your face, and begins to stroke your face with his finger again. 

“Settle down”, he breathes. 

“Logan, please just let me go”, you beg. 

“I tried to,” he admits, “but I've never been much of a quiter”. 

He kneads the flesh of your breast in his hand, and grows darker at the thought of not completing what he wanted to do. 

“Now you’re going to relax and let me take care of you, or I'll tie you to the bed”. 

You don’t move again as Logan trails down your body to slide the bunched fabric of your dress down. 

He nestles between your thighs next, keeping a strong grip as he inserts himself into you. 

He groans as you accept him. Despite your protests you were warm, and wet for him.  

He places his hands on stomach feeling the skin that had been hidden from him for so long. 

“Please keep your hands away from me”, you shudder. You curl into yourself as much as you could, scared that the blades would come out and pierce into you.

He takes his hand off your stomach, per your request. 

In an act to show you he had no intention of hurting you, he releases his claws, and drives them into the mattress either side of you. He feels as they push through the fabric to the bed frame. 

 “I would never hurt you” he promises.

He keeps his weight on his hands as he thrusts into you. Your hand remained on your chest until they sprang out to his shoulder in an attempt to control the pace. 

He slows down until he is at a pace where you no longer push on his shoulder. 

As he continues you find yourself building, so you turn away and bury your head into your pillow. 

You hear as his claw is pulled from the mattress, and feel his tight grip as it latches around your chin. He pulls your face back to his direction, resting his forehead on top of yours. 

You feel his quick breaths on your skin, and breathe them in. 

His eyes were closed, but one hand now held your face in place, and the other held your hip down. 

You gasp when you feel yourself cuming around him.  A low growl makes its way to your ear but you were more focused on Logan fucking you through your orgasm. 

Your nails become claws when he doesn’t stop. You make weak sounds, but no words as he thrusts into you. 

“You can take it” he says, somehow knowing what you were trying to say. 

His hold on your chin becomes hurtful as he reaches his end. You yank at his fingers trying to pry them off but your fingers slip from the force you were trying to use and makes no difference to him. 

A loud moan tells you he was done before you felt the warm substance drip from you. 

With a smaller, satisfied groan he opens his eyes to look at you. The same smile appears on his face preceding a deep kiss to your lips. 

He doesn’t remove himself from you but loosens his hand on your chin, and hip. 

You feel his body weight as he rests his head back on your forehead. He was conscious to keep his weight off you, yet the skin he pressed against yours, pinned you to the mattress.

“You alright, princess?” he pants. 

You don’t answer him, and he kisses you in your silence. 

 By the third time you are fucked dumb. You have a glazed look in your eye, and your body is weak against his. He uses you like a toy. Kissing you, and fucking you while you lay there with little energy left. 

His stamina and quick recovery times meant that once was never enough to satisfy him. You would lay quietly next to him for only a few minutes before he was ready to go again. 

You whine as he approaches you again, not ready for yet another round.

He lays on top of you, gently caging your head between his arms as he whispers “I know, I know”. 

He did know. When you began to cry from overstimulation, he felt terrible but couldn’t bring himself to stop. He wasn’t anywhere near his peak, and your pussy clenched so nicely around him.

“Don’t cry”, he begs, “sh, don’t cry”. 

You wouldn’t listen. He wasn’t sure if you could even hear him in your state, but he continued to talk anyway. 

“Sh, its alright. Feel good there?”, he asks as your hips buck against him. 

“Feels good there, hey baby”, he targets the spot that makes your hips buck, and you latch on to his strong shoulders with your nails. 

“Pretty girl like you should always feel good. Can I be the one to always make you feel good?”.

No more fresh tears sprang from your eyes, but the path was still wet, and a large tear balanced on the outer corner of your eye. 

He moves his hands closer, using his thumbs to brush off the water. 

“No more crying, hey bub”.

You turn your head away from him, resting your forehead on his bicep. He turns his attention to applying the right amount of force between your legs. 

He gives you a bigger rest time between the next one. Despite, him roaring to go again. 

You lay pressed against his side, half-asleep. He slung his arm over the top of your pillow, waiting for you to recover. 

Your lipstick was worn off from his ferocious kissing, and your hair had come undone around you. 

You open your eyes to look up at him, and he takes it as a sign that he could continue. 

He takes your chin into his hand to keep it still as he slides down in the bed next to you. 

“No. That’s enough”, you demand, trying to wiggle your head from his hold. 

“Just one more” he promises, “I just need one more”. 

He kisses you as he hooks your leg over his hip. Reaching back to guide himself into your swollen pussy. You fit together like a jigsaw piece, another reason why all of this was meant to be. 

He liked the intimacy of the position, pushing against your lower back to force you closer. He holds his hand there as he thrusts into you, keeping you from wiggling away. 

You rest your head on his chest, and arm over his neck taking what he gives you. 

His pace is gentler than it had been all night. Slow, controlled thrusts that rocked your body rather than shook it. 

His arm under your head kept you level with the large man, but also meant that every moan, and whimper went straight into his ear. 

It was encouraging for him to hear you reluctantly enjoying yourself.  He only wanted to bring you pleasure never pain. 

You groan softly as you cum again, and it triggers his own orgasm. 

When he was done with you for the final time, you collapse into the mattress without Logan's body scaffolding yours. 

He brushes the hair that had fallen over your face away with his large palm, and lays flat on the bed. 

“Come here” he requested, opening his arms for you. 

With eyes closed you shuffle to his chest where he pulls you just over his heart. You fall asleep almost instantly, but Logan remains awake gently stroking your hair. 

He had been called an animal all his life, but tonight was the only time he truly felt like it. 

—-------------------

You woke the next morning to the sound of his voice, 

“Hey bub, hey, come on, we have to get going”. 

You feel him smooth his palm over the side of your face, and you knock it away. It felt like knocking your hand against an immovable metal pole. 

Last night ruined you. You weren’t sure you could rise from the bed if you wanted to. 

“I am not going anywhere with you”, you state. 

He had taken what he wanted. The deal now was to leave you in peace. 

The next sound of his claws unsheathing and digging themselves into the mattress next to you made your eyes sprung open in shock. 

“Get up, now”, he demands. He was eager to get home and get you settled in. 

Xavier would get involved if Logan was absent for too long. A week here and there was nothing unusual but Xavier knew Logan too well to ignore any strange behavior. 

He passes you your dress as you rise, and you quickly place it on, looking for your panties next. Watching you put them back on made Logan want to take them back off but the plane was departing soon. 

The short, black dress was definitely more night time appropriate. You stand trying to cover your chest with your folded arms. 

He takes off his jacket, passing it to you as he speaks. 

“How far is your place from the bathhouse?” he asks. 

“Not far, a block”, you answer. You take the jacket off him and zip it up over your dress. 

It smelt of him, and his cigars. 

“Come on”. He says, taking your arm and tugging you behind him as he left the apartment. 

“I can get there myself”, you fought. 

“Kid, we haven’t got time”. He moves his grip to a harsher one on your upper arm, and half carries you in the direction he wanted you to go in.

Your heels click behind him down the steps. He detours to drop his room key back to reception before continuing on the path back to your work.

He is silent as he backtracks to the bathhouse. The street is much busier during the day. People stare as you pass them looking. 

When the Bathhouse comes into clearing he can feel you pull against him trying to get him to stop. 

He halts of his own accord, peering down at you in the middle of a busy street.

“I need to get my keys and phone from work”.

“I can get through the door. Don’t worry about that”, he shakes you slightly, getting impatient with the lack of direction,  “Which way?”

You point to the left, and take the led back to your house.

The streets thin as you weave your way out of the center of the city, and into the residential block. Everything was old and run down. 

Broken, smashed cars lined the streets, graffiti was sprayed on every covering, people kept to themselves not even looking out the window as you passed. 

He follows you until you stop at a run down apartment block. 

“This is it”, you state. 

“Upstairs”, he orders but you don’t move. 

“Let me go or I'll scream”, you threaten. 

“And I’ll kill anyone that comes. Upstairs”.

 You were yet to learn that Logan had reservations about killing needlessly, especially non-mutants, so you admit defeat and wander down three apartment blocks to your actual home.

The bar was low, but your apartment block was the nicest in the street. No graffiti or broken windows. A nice, clean brick that reached three stories and opened to a nice fourier. 

There was no elevator but there was only one flight of stairs up to your apartment. 

You show him your door labeled 2A, telling him there was no way to get it open unless he took you back to the bathhouse. 

He ignores you, placing his hand on the knob and giving it a gentle push that breaks the lock. 

Your heart rate picks up faster, which worries Logan as it was already quite high. 

He lets go of your arm to allow you to go in first, and shuts the door behind him. 

It was a one bedroom apartment, with a small open kitchen that opened to a small space that had to be chosen to be a living room or a dining area. 

You had chosen a living room with a green couch sat in front of a small rectangular table. 

“You can take what you want. I have some jewelry in the food cupboard”, you state. 

“This isn’t a hold-up”, he grumbles, “Come here”.

He goes to your bedroom, listening to your feet following him. 

He goes to your closet to see your luggage bag stored up top. He takes it down, and begins throwing items into it. 

‘What are you doing?”, you begin to panic seeing him stuff your suitcase with your clothes. 

“Do you have a passport?”

“Why?”

The plane was departing within the hour. He had no time to answer obvious questions. 

“Do you have one?”. He reiterates. 

“No”. Your heart skips a beat as you lie. 

“Go get it”, he demands. 

“I don’t want to”, your voice was quiet and strained. 

He knew he should have taken a softer approach. To be uprooted overnight would be a hard thing for anybody.

Yet still, his claws dig through at your resistance. 

“Go get it”, he said in a lower tone. 

His blades work to persuade you, and you move quickly to your bedside table to retrieve it. 

He zips up your suitcase, holding out his hand for your passport. You pass it to him, taking a step back once it's in his hand. 

Checking it’s valid, he puts it in his back pocket alone with his. 

“Logan, I can keep a secret” you say, “I would never tell anyone about you”. 

“That’s nice, bub. Go change”, he nods to the wardrobe behind him which you take a pair of jeans, and a singlet from. 

You were too quick to the bathroom, so he stops you before you enter. 

“Ah” he tuts. 

He takes a look inside first to check for windows. There was only a small one with a security screen so he allowed you to pass and shut the door on him. 

After a frustrating phone call in which he was misunderstood twice, he manages to order a taxi to the airport, and knocks on the door to let you know it was on its way. 

You open the door a different person. Your makeup was all wiped off, and your hair was pulled back into a ponytail. 

The confident seductive was replaced with this fragile girl-next-door type. He didn’t think it was possible to love you anymore. 

You hand out his jacket to him which he takes but opens it to wrap around your shoulders. 

“Keep it. It looks good on you”.

“Logan-” you begin but he cuts you off. 

“Sh” he dismisses taking your head into his hands, “it’s alright. I know”. 

“But-” you try. 

He sh’s you again, “Don’t think. Just come with me”, he begs. 

Moving his hands from your head to your wrist he takes you back outside the bathroom to where your bag lay waiting by the door. 

You don’t know why but you follow his direction to put your sandals on your feet, and follow him down to the street and into a taxi. 

Your head reels as the car drives. The taxi is silent, only the sound from the radio plays. Logan holds onto your thigh while he looks out of the window. 

You stare at his hands, wondering where the blades went when they were retracted. 

You think about telling the driver but one man was no match for Logan. 

The man pulls into the drop off station, and gets out to get your luggage. 

Logan turns to you in the car, demanding your attention from his eyes alone. 

“Are you going to save us both some time and be a good girl, or do we need to go over what will happen if you draw attention?”. 

You shake your head ‘no’. 

“Good girl, let’s go”. 

Logan goes out the same door you do, instantly taking your hand in his in the busy station. 

He pays the man, and takes your suitcase for you. 

“Where are we going?”, you request. 

Logan joins the back of the line for check-in’s

“New York”, he gives. 

“What's in New york?” you ask him. 

“Home”.  

You flex your hands in his, trying to get it free.

“I am going home with you?”, you implore. 

He nods, not looking at you.

“You said you were one of the good guys”, you remind him. 

“I told you, I am a good guy that does bad things”. 

His fingers clench around yours in a painful hold. Your eyes fill up with fresh tears. You knew Logan wouldn’t hurt you, but he was a stranger, a mutant, who had taken you from your home, and planned to place you in his. 

“Don’t cry. Not here”, he demands. 

He moves his body to shield you from prying eyes, as you try your best to conceal your panic. 

A gentle hand rubs your back as you move up in line. 

The girl at the counter notices your red eyes, and asks if you are okay.

“She’s a nervous flyer” he lies. 

The woman ignores him, asking you the question again. 

The hand you held had blades that came out on command so you nod your head in agreement. 

“I’ll be fine once we are up in the air” you say. 

The woman hands Logan the tickets, and you make your way over to the security screening. 

Logan seemed amazed you had lied for him. 

He kisses your head, thanking you for not causing a scene. 

He lets you go easy when you reach the security point, letting you walk through the metal detector. 

You eye the security and their guns, but you watched Logan get shot at point blank. Would their guns even dint him?

The metal detector beeps when Logan walks through. For a second, you think that you will find out if their guns work on him when a security officer closes in. 

“Easy there, big guy”, Logan takes a slip of paper out of his pocket to show the man, “I have a metal hip”. 

The man takes the pass over to his supervisor.  You wonder if they know something is wrong as they talk, but the manger looks relaxed, and with a wave of his hand the pass is given back to Logan, and you get the go ahead. 

Logan slings his arm over your shoulder past the security who don’t take a second glance.

“You have metal in your hands?” you whisper the question to him. 

“I have adamantium in my entire body” he explains, “It’s a type of metal”. 

You feel amazed at the news. A whole body of metal reinforcing him to be the most dangerous man you had ever met. 

The most dangerous man you had ever met took you over to a cafe stand. Buying you, and himself a roll and coffee. 

You never would have guessed the man you met at the bathhouse harbored such a secret. How many other clients were mutants too, or was he the only one. 

“It’s gettin’ cold”, he says noticing you staring at him. 

You accept his gift, starving after last night. 

The rest of the time until boarding was silent. Only then did the sense of dread kick back in. 

“Please”, you beg. 

“I am sorry. Get on the plane”. His voice was soft, but you could hear no sound of true sympathy from it. 

He keeps you in front of him as the attendant checks the tickets, and you find your seats. 

You were the only two on your row, right at the back of the plane. 

Logan settles into the seat beside you, doing up his seatbelt, and checking yours. 

The cabin crew begin their safety speech. Your eyes were trained out the window, not looking at them. You hoped the plane crashed. 

When the plane began moving at a fast pace, Logan checked your seatbelt again, pulling on it to make sure it was tight across your lap. 

You look at him. He was tense again, and shut his eyes when the plane took off. 

When it stabilized he let out a breath of air, and opened his eyes, falling back into his seat. 

“Afraid of flying?” you ask surprised. 

“If god wanted us to fly, we’d have wings”, he quips. 

“And if god wanted us to have blades in our hands, we would”. 

Logan's hands ball into fists. He was a freak in your eyes.

“One day I’ll explain what happened to me”, he promises. 

“What else can you do? You’re strong, hard, body full of metal”, you start, “and that man. He shot you”. 

“Baby, I can do alot of things”, he dismisses. 

“Like what?” you push. 

“Maybe now is not the time to be discussing this”. He says looking around at other passengers. Most of whom already had their earphones on. 

“What do you want with me?”, you implore. 

“Now’s really not the time to be discussing that” He grits.

“One of the good guys” you remind him. 

“I'll settle for being an okay guy. Stop talking” he growls. 

You turn back to the window away from him the rest of the flight. 

You watch as the clouds below you turn orange, and then black. Logan passes you a food tray from the stewardess and you eat it in silence. 

It must have looked odd to the stewardess. Neither you or Logan played with the screen in front of you. Just sat there with grim expressions on your faces. 

 Lights turn off as the cabin goes to sleep. You were nowhere near ready with the adrenaline pumping through your body. 

Logan takes his blanket from the wrapper and lays it over your shoulder. 

“You should sleep,” he says. 

“Is that how it's going to be from now on? You telling me what to do” , you snap. 

Logan turns away from you, facing to the front. 

“It was just a suggestion”. 

You run your hands over your face wondering what sort of keeper he was going to be. 

“I need to pee” you say. 

He unbuckles his seatbelt to get up out of your way but you couldn’t wait for him. You’re fighting to get past him as he tries to stand. 

He grabs your waist to maneuver you but the touch sends rage through your body. 

You scream in his face. A loud ear piercing scream that turned everyone’s attention on you. 

Logan quickly let go, slumping back into his seat under the stare of other awake passengers. 

You rush to the bathroom, locking the door behind you. 

The tight space allows you to breathe. 

Washing your face with cold water, you decide it is time to return to your seat. 

Logan waits for the sound of a turning lock before he jumps from his seat to catch you as you exited and push you back inside. 

He is quick to lock the door behind him. 

Three, quick, firm smacks are placed on your bottom as he pushes you against the sink. 

It stings when he sits you on the counter, and stands between your legs.

“Are you crazy, bub? Acting like that”, he scolds. 

You try to move him out between your legs, but he pushes your knee down as you move your leg. 

“Don’t you ever misbehave like that again”, he warns. 

“Or what?”. He had already taken everything from you, and you trusted him enough to know he wouldn’t really hurt you. 

His angry stare didn’t scare you, but when his hands reached for the button of your jeans your heart rate spiked. 

“I gotta fuck the stupid out of you?” he spat. 

“Get off” you demand. 

You scream in his face again when his hand continues to unhook the button. 

He is quick to quieten you, clamping a hand over your mouth. Your head hits the mirror from the force.

He secures your hands behind your back with a single hand when you begin to hit him. It caused you more pain than him, it felt as if you were hitting against a brick wall.

The force knocks out his necklace that he had never worn before. A rectangular pendant dangles as he moves. You could see it was inscribed but the writing was too small to make out. 

“Is that how it’s going to be from now on? Me telling you what to do. Yeah. I think fucking so”, he grunts. 

“Now don’t scream” he orders. 

The hand over your mouth is removed as he uses it to tug down your jeans, and then his own. 

You know you should scream, make some sort of noise that would alert the others, but desire pooled with him between your legs. 

Your emotions were too complicated to unpack so you allowed him to take your pants off your legs. 

He throws them to the floor, but keeps your panties in his hands. 

You see why when he brings them to your lips, and forces them in your mouth. He clamps his hand back over to keep you from spitting them out. 

He sighs as he enters you. 

“You know, you don’t need to act stupid to get my attention”, he grunts as he rocks into you. 

Your toes curl feeling him inside of you. He fit so completely that you were building from just clenching around him. 

“Don’t cum. I’ll tell you when”, he says. 

You muffle a protest against his hand, but it was met with no sympathy. 

“Don’t you fucking cum or I’ll put you over my knee for ten more”. 

Your ass still stung from the three he gave you so you delayed yourself the best you could. 

He picks up his pace, slamming into you quickly, and hard. You hear his chain clink as he moves.

“Okay now”, he directs. 

Your thighs shake as you clench around him. 

His hand drops to allow you to regain your breath, bringing your pants from your mouth as he did. 

He pants in unison with you, only he is quicker to regain his resolve. Your head was still reeling while he re-buttons his jeans. 

He shakes his head as if he was trying to snap out of the trance he was in. 

It seemed to have worked as he was gentle when he slid your underpants back on. 

It was as if two people lived inside of him. One was sweet, and gentle, the other impulsive, and violent. 

You weren’t sure which one turned you on the way it did. 

He looks at you with those remorseful eyes. You should hate him but yourself wanting to comfort him. You knock it down to Stockholm and square your shoulders against his. 

“Let me take a look at you”. He turns your face in his hand and smooths back your hair from your face with his other hand. 

He checks to make sure you are okay. You didn’t look to be crying or in any pain. 

“You right, Bub? You going to be good for me from now on?”, he asks.

You take the necklace out of his shirt. He doesn’t move to stop you, letting you read his dog tags. 

‘LOGAN’ in capital letters and Howlett in smaller letters below. A series of numbers trace the bottom. 

You flip it, feeling the indents on the other side, and run your finger over the name. 

“Wolverine” you read, “like the animal?”.

He takes his tags from your hand and tucks them back under his shirt. 

“Yeah, like the animal”. 

[hatsunemitskislobotomy]

✧.*“ 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚒'𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 ”·˚ ༘

“ every piece of me, holds parts of you ”

↳ ❝ ¡love and deepspace headcannon, y’all know that one trend where you match nail polish with each other’s eyes? yeahhhhh!❞

•◦இ•◦

xavier

there’s something about his blue eyes that just aren’t like the others yknow?

they’re expressing and deep like one’s unwavering desire

pools of deep blue that surely if you look hard enough would reveal his heart and soul to you

and when the light hits them a certain way? they look almost space like

all things aside— this man is an odd one truly

he’ll never be aware of it but he’s incredibly clingy

and he’s such a pouty baby bless his soul

you were having a girls night with tara and a few other female coworkers

he was a bit perturbed when he came knocking at your apartment seeking his favorite napping buddy only to greeted by a tara with hair curlers in and a sheet mask

ever since then he had been insistent on having a “girls night” with you

you really didn’t know what to do with him some days

you explain to him the concepts of it— the bonding and the more or less gossiping with some snacks as you guys helped each other wind down for the night painting each other’s nails or doing each other’s hair

that man is unfazed— he wants all in

though he insists it’s less of a girls thing and more of a you and him thing, you figured

so after a long exhausting week of deepspace hunter stuff, you and him have your little girls night

you get into the nitty gritty of it, although he wasn’t one for gossip he liked hearing you fill him in on the work culture he didn’t bother to immerse himself in

you introduce him to sunscreen and a few other things in mortification after finding out his entire skincare is bar soap and warm water

as the night winded down, you both wearing your face masks and snacking— it was time to paint your nails

you didn’t exactly expect him to join in, it was a preference and he’d definitely stand out more than he likes to if he did so you just go on looking for whatever color you’re feeling

but you get an idea and suddenly you’re holding up every blue polish to his eyes

he’s reasonably confused but he couldn’t help but melt when you explained that you wanted your nails to match the pretty blue of his eyes

now he’s determined and starts doing the same to yours, pulling up bottle after bottle to match with yours

once you two settle on your colors, you get to work

but of course nail painting is a tedious task, it wasn’t long before the two of you fell asleep against each other with half painted nails

but at least you wore a part of each other

rafayel

his eyes— lord

they’re ethereal

like the blueish purple shifting to a pinky hue like that color combo is mesmerizing

believe it or not but he’s the one who approaches you with the idea

something about it being only natural that he and his self appointed bodyguard should match

of course you go along with his antics, after all it’s been a while since you’ve gotten your nails done

he’s very insistent that he paints them for you, after all they’re just another canvas for him

when you visit him at his studio he shows out with a multitude of different nail polishes and gems and what not

it seems like he lost the plot

he tells you not to worry and to trust the process but this man is gluing acrylic tips on your nails as we speak

his work is precise and detailed and before you know it you have a full set of acrylic nails on

he definitely went overboard but not in a bad way— aside from the color of his eyes the nails had elements of his other aspects

basically he gave you mermaid nails following the color scheme of his eyes

you can’t even complain because they look GOOD

genuinely you’re wondering when this man learned how to be a nail tech

you feel kinda bad because although you painted his nails your eye color (or colors for the heterochromia babes) they were kinda… meh

of course he comforts you… by saying there’s only room for one artist in your relationship

all jokes aside (after you smack him with a pillow) he reassures you, the color of your eyes was already beautiful enough for him and now he could look at his hands to remind himself of you

zayne

his eyes are gorgeous

like think summer greens and woodsy vibes

for someone who’s so cold, his eyes look so warm

lately when you’ve been getting your nails done you’ve stuck with neutrals, you didn’t want anything crazy to stand out yet you wanted something subtle and soft for you to look at

and you just so happened to have an affinity for the color green

the first time he notices is after he invites you over to make dinner with him

he was distracting you, you were in charge of chopping the vegetables and he had the audacity to make you laugh

it was no wonder you slipped with the knife and was now sitting on the counter while he tended to your finger while chastising you in his normal manner

as he stood positioned in between your legs cleaning the wound he couldn’t help but notice your nails, a nice shade in between olive and forest green— although the polish was chipping a little

you know he was going to ask so you pull your finger away in embarrassment

hearing you meekly admit that the color reminded you of his eyes stirred something in him

as he wrapped your finger with care he mentions that he has a day off coming up in the upcoming weeks

he offered to treat you, getting your nails done of course after all who is he to not feel honored by your color choice?

although embarrassed, you accept his offer it was sweet of him

when the time comes and you’re sitting at the salon getting your nails done, you join the sweet old ladies into egging him on to also get his nails done

and no clear polish nonsense either

although he could’ve argued that being a surgeon required that his hands neat and clean, he can’t help but humor you

so you both walk out with painted nails, you with your forest olive green— and his with the colors mirroring your own eyes

when the ladies at the salon caught wind of the reasons behind your color choices they insisted you got the magnetic gel polish giving the cat eye affect free of charge

now when you looked at your nails, you could also get lost in them like you would in his eyes

sylus

his eyes have to be the scariest pool of red you’ve ever seen

yet there’s a certain way when he looks at you that you can’t help but get lost in them for hours

when you first proposed the idea he thought it was stupid and a waste of time— but in that same breath… he couldn’t say no to you

also he liked the fact that you’d have something to constantly remind yourself of him and his presence when he wasn’t already physically looming over you

so he decides to humor it, just this once because it makes your eyes light up and he thinks it’s worth it

as you’re looking for the perfect nail polish to match his eyes, he’s also quietly searching

he might as well return the favor after all, even if having painted nails compromised his stature and respect he’d just get rid of anyone who even dared to think of such a thing

besides— you also had really pretty eyes

when the next time he sees you, he sees the ethereal shade of red shimmering on your nails and it’s like a force possesses him

quite literally cannot keep his eyes off of them and his hands off of you, your hand has a permanent place in his as he rubs against your knuckles with the pad of his thumb

you couldn’t help but notice that he also went and painted his nails, a familiar color as well

he was very nonchalant about his nails of course, giving attention to your nails only

the affect it had on him was insane— it looked almost as if it were a brand, a sign that you were his

he swears to himself that you’d continue to be adorned in red, it was definitely your color

❀° ┄───╮

a/n: yall ive been meaning to post this concept for ages but i didn’t have a good song and then sylus came out (which btw a little commotion for sylus’s debut in my silly little posts 🤗) anyways we love beabadoobee in this household say thank you beabadoobee

on a more or less real note— i am trying to post more 😭😭😭 like it’s summer time and i’m on vacation but it doesn’t feel like a vacation so I don’t even know man

please look forward to more while i empty out my brain of these silly little ideas for you all and while i box it out with my wallet who will understandably hate me once sylus is a officially out

love u all mwaaaah 💋🫶🏾

╰───┄ °❀

[gejo333]

An Unexpected Match III

DILF/DBF Miguel O’Hara x Female Reader

Pt.1 Pt.4

Summary: Miguel finds out that you have a boyfriend after he makes a surprise visit. However, that doesn’t stop him for trying to seduce you, but you’re stubborn, and won’t be labeled a cheater despite the temptations. As weeks in the summer go by, your friendship with the O’Hara’s becomes really strong, which doesn’t help fight the urge to sleep with Miguel. But will one-heart breaking encounter break your stubborn ways?

I apologize for any grammatical mistakes I missed.

Enjoy💕

Wc: 5.5k

____________________________________________

“It’s been a while, Hermosa. I’ve missed you.”

You turn off the faucet and grab a paper towel to dry your hands. You turn your head slightly towards him.

“I never thought I would see you again.” You lightly chuckle before you turn around and look up to meet his gaze. Pressed against the sink and Miguel, you couldn’t escape. But with your heart pounding against your chest, you didn’t want to move from his hold.

Miguel brushed some of your hair from your face before he took your chin in his hand. His gaze dropped to your lips before meeting your eyes again.

“Maybe we should start where we left off two years ago. I never was able to give you that goodbye kiss. But I’d say it’s more of a hello now.” He leaned down, his lips brushing your own. Before your lips touch, you turn your head, his kiss touching your cheek. Miguel raised his head, eyebrows furrowed, lips forming a frown. You lift your hand to cup his face as your thumb gently brushes his cheek.

“I can’t. I-” Before you could speak, you heard the sliding glass door open. Hearing your father’s voice, you and Miguel separate as you turn on the kitchen faucet to resume doing the dishes. Miguel helps you dry them and put the dishes away.

On walks, your father as he brings more dishes to the kitchen. “Hey, you two. I see you both getting buddy-buddy with each other.” Said your father as he came over and put more dishes next to you.

“W-what do you mean?” You felt your heart skip a beat as you looked at your father.

“Just nice to see my daughter getting along with my best friend here. I knew you two would like each other. Are you talking about science stuff?” You smile at your father’s upbeat attitude that you and Miguel were getting along. Little did he know how well you two got along.

“Y/n asked me about what projects we worked on in my department and what interns do. I was just giving her an overview of it.” Miguel said as he put away another dish you passed to him, your fingers touching his. You probably would have dropped it if it wasn’t for his grip on the plate.

“Hope he’s not boring you too much.” Your father laughs as he pats your back.

“No, not at all. I enjoy learning about these kinds of things. If I got bored of it, it wouldn’t be smart to choose a career in it.” You chuckle as your gaze briefly meets Miguel’s before returning to the dishes. Your father comes up and gently pushes you out of the way to finish the dishes.

“Dad? What-” you ask him, confused to being slightly pushed away.

“Don’t worry about finishing the dishes. There’s a surprise waiting for you in the backyard.” Your father chuckled.

“Surprise? It’s 8pm. Why show me-” You paused your words as your eyes widened. You hear everyone come inside from the backyard into the living room, where you hear a distinct male voice. You look to Miguel with slightly widened eyes, who gazes at you with concern before you leave the kitchen and into the living room.

Sitting on the couch chatting with your two brothers and Stephanie was your boyfriend of one year and a month.

“Tyler?” You say, surprised to see him. He turned to face you with a warm smile as he got up to hug you.

“Hey there, kitten. I’ve missed you.” Tyler calls you by the nickname he gives you as he brings you into his arms and leans down to kiss you. You pull away gently from the kiss as you put on a smile.

“Daddy!” Your heart dropped when you heard Gabi run into her father’s arms, who had come from the kitchen.

“Hey, missed you too.” You say to Tyler before you turn to look at Miguel. He didn’t look happy. Not with you being in another man’s arms.

Why was this bothering you so much? You had a great boyfriend. Miguel was only a weekend fling from two years ago. He shouldn’t matter to you. Yet, his gaze, voice, and touch… It made your heart glow.

“I thought I wasn’t going to see you till tomorrow?”

“Jack texted me saying you arrived early. So I decided to come see you.” You look to your older brother and send him a look that only your brothers would understand. Jack’s eyes widened when he saw you look at him with the ‘I’m so going to get you back for this’ look.

“Aww, how sweet.” You say with a big fake smile that only Stephanie and your brothers can recognize.

“Well, it’s getting late. I have to get this little one to bed.” Said Miguel as he noticed his daughter fall asleep in his arms. He also couldn't bear to see you in another man’s arms.

“Aww, they’re always so cute at that age. I miss mine being that age. But they’re all grown up now. Maybe I’ll see grandchildren running around here soon. “Your mom said as she melted at the sight of the sleeping Gabi. She looked at your brother Jack and then at you when she said the last part.

“Mom!” Whined Jack as he tried to cover his reddened cheeks.

Your father leaves the kitchen to say goodbye to Miguel at the door. You leave Tyler’s

arms as you walk to the entrance to your house, where you see Miguel and your father talking. As you stand next to your father, Miguel’s gaze briefly lands on you before looking back at your father.

“Oh, before you leave, Miguel. Are you still trying to find a new babysitter? Y/n babysat all during high school. And she’s free until she returns to college in a month.” Your eyes widen when your father makes the offer for you to babysit.

Miguel looked over at you with a mischievous gleam in his eye as he smiled. “That would be great. See you tomorrow at 3 at my house then. It was nice meeting you, y/n. Can’t wait to get to know you better.”

“S-see you tomorrow.” Your cheeks lightly flush as you smile at him before he leaves through the door.

“Wow, I’ve never seen him warm up to someone so quick. I could barely get a full conversation out of him for a week.” Your father said as he closed the door.

“It’s probably because he knows our family so well.” You tell your father as you both walk back into the family room.

After talking with everyone for a bit longer, you try to hide a yawn. The flight back, plus jet lag, was making you exhausted.

“I’m going to head to bed. I’ll see everyone in the morning.” You try to hide another yawn as you stand up from the couch. Tyler gets up with you, his hand draped around your shoulders.

“Goodnight, you two. No funny business under my roof. Just sleep.” Your father gives you both a warning look. You roll your eyes and smile.

“Don’t worry, Dad. Nothing will happen.”

You say as you walk upstairs to your bedroom, Tyler follows right behind you. As you get to your room, you are suddenly turned around as his lips capture yours. You gently push him away as you smile up at him. He frowns slightly, disappointed in your answer.

“Maybe not tonight. I really am tired from being back from Europe. Let’s just sleep tonight.”

“Fine. Good Night.” He sighed with a smile as he took off his pants and shirt and got in the bed with you.

“Goodnight.”

As you lay in your bed, you wished you shared it with a certain man instead of your boyfriend.

When you woke up the next morning, you left Tyler in your bed as you felt guilty for wishing you woke up in Miguel’s strong arms.

Since Stephanie spent the night, too, you went on a morning walk to your favorite cafe as you both talked about yesterday’s events. After talking the morning away, you walked back to your house, where you said goodbye to Stephanie before she left back to her apartment. That’s when you also said goodbye to Tyler, as he said he would meet up with his old roommates.

When you showered and got ready, it was time for you to head over to Miguel’s house to babysit Gabi. You weren’t just nervous about being in Miguel’s house the first time but you wanted Gabi to like you.

As you walk up to his house, you knock on the door. Within seconds the door opened, revealing Miguel dressed in a button-up and nice black slacks. Your breath hitched when you saw him wearing his glasses. Your core shrieked, but you were able to compose yourself as you smiled at him.

“Hi, Mr. O’Hara.”

“Hey there, Kitten.” Miguel chuckled as he stepped aside to let you inside. As you walked in, you turned around, cheeks red as you lightly hit his chest, trying to hide the smile on your face from his silly remark.

“The name’s y/n to you.”

“And it’s Miguel for you.” Miguel winked at you with a smile before he led you into the house.

Despite living on the same street, his house was way bigger than your childhood home. Nicer too. With top-of-the-line furniture and appliances. That’s probably what you get when you are the genetics department chair at Alchamex.

“You have a lovely home.” You say as he leads you into the kitchen, where Gabi sits at the kitchen counter, coloring with pencils and markers.

“Hey, Mija, Y/n is here to hang out with you.” Gabi looked up from her coloring. Her eyes brightened up when she saw you.

“Hi! I drew you a picture!” Gabi lifted the paper she was drawing as you smiled brightly and walked over to where she was sitting. She showed you her drawing; it was of you and her standing on what you assumed was a field with a soccer ball in her hands.

“I love it, Gabi. Thank you. Oh, are we wearing the Clover team jerseys?”

“Yeah! Since you said you used to play on the team. The drawing is for you.” Gabi passes you the picture as you gladly take it. “Aww, thank you. When I get home, it’s going straight on the fridge.” You gently put the drawing in your bag to make sure not to forget it.

Miguel smiled at you and Gabi getting along. She was ecstatic When he mentioned that you were coming over to babysit this morning. Despite only meeting you yesterday, his daughter seemed fond of you immediately. He briefly leaves to grab his lab coat, putting it on before returning to the kitchen, where you and Gabi chatted away. He walks to the other side of the kitchen counter and puts important paperwork and his laptop in a bag. His gaze meets yours, gesturing for you to follow him.

“Goodbye, princesa. I’ll be home for dinner.” Miguel kissed the top of her head as she turned to hug him.

He then guided you to his office, letting you in first before he closed the door. Hearing the door locked, you turned around with a smile. Miguel approached you, touching your hips as he pulled you against him.

“Maybe something quick before work?” Miguel smirked as he grabbed you by the thighs, lifting you up as he sat you on his desk.

“Miguel, we can’t. For many reasons.” You giggle as you put your hands on his chest and gently push him away. You cup his face with your hand. He puts his larger hand on top of yours as he takes it and kisses your wrist.

“Why not, cariño?” He looks at you with a lustful gaze.

“You know why. First off, Gabi is in the other room. And second, I have a boyfriend. I’m not going to be labeled a cheater. And those are just the two reasons at the top of my head.” You smiled up at him as he moved slightly away from you to let you get down from his desk.

A frown forms on your lips as you see a small pout on his face. Getting up from the desk, you walk up to him and fix his lab coat collar. “I want to kiss you, Miguel. But I can’t.”

Your last words made him smile as he brushed some of your hair behind your ear, a small loving gesture you missed so much.

Miguel unlocked the office door and grabbed his bag as he told you a bit about what Gabi likes to eat, what she can and can’t have, and that he would be back for dinner. He also gave you his phone number to call or text if anything arises. Or if you wanted to meet privately with him. He whispered to you the last part as you rolled your eyes playfully and shook your head, smiling at him before he left.

Walking back to the kitchen, you sit next to Gabi.

“Can I draw with you?”

“Sure!” Gabi smiled as she passed you a blank paper and shared her colored pencils.

“Are you excited to start kindergarten?”

“Yeah! I’m excited to make new friends. Some of my teammates are going to be in my class.”

“That’s awesome! I bet you’re going to have a lot of fun.”

“Yeah! Wow, you draw really well! Can you teach me?” Gabi looked at your drawing of randomly drawn flowers. You smiled at her interest in your drawing. You minored in visual arts just because you loved art and its calming mechanisms when stressed.

You grab two pieces of blank paper and teach her to draw a simple rose. After a few drafts, Gabi was happy with her third rose. You then taught her how to draw different flowers for most of the day.

After spending two hours drawing, you cut up a piece of fruit for the both of you to snack on before Gabi asked you to kick a soccer ball in the backyard.

After spending an hour passing the soccer ball and teaching her cool tricks to show off to her teammates, it was time for you to start making dinner.

You heard the front door open when you finished dinner for you and the two O’Haras. Miguel walked into the kitchen and smiled at seeing you making dinner with Gabi helping when she could, standing on a footstool beside you. He could get used to this site. If only he could make you his.

“Daddy!” Gabi ran up to Miguel and hugged him.

“Hey there, did you have fun today?” Miguel hugged his daughter back before she grabbed his hand and brought him to the kitchen counter.

“Look at the drawings y/n and I drew! She taught me how to draw flowers!” Gabi showed him the drawings.

“These are great, Mija. I’ll put your favorite on the fridge.” Gabi handed her favorite to him as he grabbed a magnet and hung it on the fridge door. “Looks perfect.” Miguel smiled before he gazed at you.

“Gabi, how about you go wash up for dinner.”

“Ok!” Gabi ran upstairs. Once he heard the bathroom door shut, he approached you from behind and grabbed your hips, pulling you against him.

“Miguel.” You chuckle as you finish cooking, turning off the stove as you turn your head.

“Just one kiss. Please, Hermosa. I miss your lips against mine. I miss touching you.” Miguel leaned down as his lips brushed against your neck before leaving one kiss. You turn around, cheeks flushed as you try to give him a serious look but fail. “Like I said before, we can’t.”

Miguel smirks as he takes your chin softly. “You distracted me all day today at work. I could barely get anything done.”

You smile as you take the hand on your chin and give it a loving squeeze. “Dinner is ready.”

After having a nice dinner with Miguel and Gabi, as she tells him about your day together, you decide it’s time to leave. Miguel walks you to the front door as he takes out his wallet. You put your hand over his, stopping him from taking out any money.

“I don’t need any money. Please, I don’t want it. I really loved spending time with her. She’s the sweetest thing. You have an amazing daughter, Miguel. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You smile before opening the door and leaving.

Miguel stood there, brows slightly furrowed. He felt his heart skip a beat at your last words before leaving. Until now, his feelings for you have only been lustful. But now he’s beginning to feel more for you. He’s never felt this way for anyone. He groaned in slight annoyance. Now it would be even harder for him to stop his advances of making you his.

————

Two weeks have passed, and you have gotten into a routine with the O’Hara’s. You would come in the afternoon to hang out with Gabi until Miguel came home from work and had dinner with you. Sometimes you made dinner, sometimes Miguel would if he came home earlier, or he would get takeout for the three of you.

Today was a little different. Miguel had come home earlier than usual and found you and Gabi in the kitchen making homemade cookies. He found you both covered in flour and frosting, both laughing when you saw him walk in with a surprised face.

“Want to frost cookies with us?” You ask him. Miguel smiled as he rolled up his sleeves and stood on the other side of Gabi.

“Daddy, you're putting too much frosting on the cookie.” Giggled Gabi as she saw her father drown the sugar cookie in orange frosting.

“I guess I did.” He chuckled as he looked down at his daughter. He laughed when he saw his daughter’s face covered in frosting. He grabbed a napkin, kneeled down, and wiped her face. Gabi then dipped her finger in some frosting and put it on her father’s nose. Seeing Miguel’s surprised face made you and Gabi laugh.

“Oh, this is funny to you both.” Miguel then put frosting on your nose. Now making the O’Hara’s chuckle at your facial reaction.

“Very funny.” You laugh as you get a napkin and wipe your face. You then go up to Miguel and, with the napkin, wipe away the frosting from his face. Your eyes met his, and your breath hitched when you noticed a difference in his eyes. They held more than lust. His eyes held something more for you.

You looked away, breaking your gaze. “Look at us. Guess we should all get cleaned up.” You chuckle as you look at yourself, Gabi, and Miguel, all covered in flour, frosting, and sprinkles.

All three of you go upstairs as Miguel starts a bath for Gabi.

“I’ll be there in a minute, Princesa. I’m just going to show y/n where the other shower is.” He tells Gabi before he leads you down the hall into the master bedroom and straight to the master bath.

“Miguel, why are we in your bathroom? I know that you have more than two bathrooms in this house.”

Miguel smirked after turning on the shower. “My shower has the best water pressure. You can take a shower while I help Gabi wash up. Unless you want to wait a bit, we can shower together.” Miguel walked up to you as his eyes trailed up and down your body.

“Sorry, O’Hara. You’re not getting a peep show.” You smirked. Miguel chuckled as he put his hands up in surrender before leaving.

He was right. The water pressure was perfect. As you wash off the flour and frosting, your mind wonders about memories of Miguel two years ago. The hot water rushed against both your bodies as you felt his lips on your skin, his hands trailing over you, lowering one down to your sensitive lips.

You snapped back to reality as you turned the shower handle too cold to knock some sense into you.

After everyone was showered and dressed, it was time for Gabi to go to bed. Sometime during the middle of the week, Gabi asked if both you and Miguel would tuck her into bed and say good night before you left.

As you entered her room, you saw Miguel grab her favorite stuffed animal as he walked back over to the 5- year old jumping on her bed.

“Be careful, Mija. You could fall.” Miguel said as he picked up his giggling daughter and laid her on the bed, pulling the covers over her. You sat beside Miguel on the bed as you helped tuck her in. You noticed she dropped her stuffed animal on the floor, so you picked it up and put it beside her. You smiled lovingly at her as she yawned and eyes drooped.

“Goodnight, Gabi. Sweet dreams.”

“Goodnight, y/n. Goodnight, Daddy.”

“Goodnight, princess. Sleep well.”

You both watched her fall asleep before quietly standing up and leaving her room. You both walked downstairs and grabbed your things before heading to the front door.

“You know, it’s pretty late. You could sleep here tonight.” Miguel suggested as he gave you the usual goodbye hug, which started the second night you began to come over.

“Goodnight, Miguel.” You giggled as you hugged him, but not before standing on your toes and kissing his cheek as a goodbye.

Miguel stood frozen in shock from your little kiss. Of course, you had already snuck off and left before he could come to his senses. He smiled as he touched his slightly flushed cheek where your lips once were.

————-

Another week passed, and it was family game night at your house. Of course, it wasn’t just your family but the O’Haras, Stephanie, and your boyfriend, Tyler. Since you started hanging out more at Miguel’s house. You’ve barely gone to hang out with Tyler, which has put a bit of tension in your relationship.

“Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the bar and watch the basketball game tomorrow?” Tyler sat beside you on the sofa, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“Sure, oh wait. I have to take a rain check. I offered to take Gabi to soccer practice and then drive her to a friend’s house for a sleepover. Maybe next time.” Your lips turned into a frown as you heard him scoff and remove his arm from around you as he sipped his beer. You rolled your eyes and turned towards him. “What?”

“You’ve been canceling plans to spend all your time with that family. I’d say you had a thing for-” You hit his chest as a warning, a groan in pain coming from him as he lightly glared at you.

“I offered to help him babysit since he is my father’s best friend. He’s a busy single father who couldn’t find anyone to help take care of his daughter. Get your head out of the clouds and from those stupid accusations.” You glared at him, fuming. Thank god you were the only two in the living room before everyone came in.

The doorbell rang, indicating the O’Haras were here. Having enough of your boyfriend, you excuse yourself as you open the door.

“Y/n!” Gabi ran over and hugged you.

“Hey there, my little bug.” You happily returned her hug before letting her enter the house to greet everyone else.

“Hi.” You smile up at Miguel, who smiles back at you as he gives you a warm side hug. He leans down and whispers, “Hi, Hermosa.” You playfully roll your eyes and return his hug before entering the living room.

Still mad at Tyler, you sit between Gabi and your brother Jack. Noticing you weren’t sitting next to him, he rolled his eyes and took another sip from his beer.

“Boyfriend troubles?” Your brother mumbled to you. “Yep.” You sigh as you steal your brother’s beer and take a sip before returning it to him.

“Hey, I don’t want your germs.” Grumbled your brother as he took a sip from his beer.

“Grow up.” You chuckle.

“Attention, everyone! It’s time to pick teams! Pick a piece of paper from the hat, whatever number you have, pair it with the people with the same number.” Said your mother as she passed the hat along. When you picked out a folded paper, you opened it and got ‘3.’

“Who got three?”

“I did!” Gabi rose, hands up in excitement.

“Me too.” Miguel smiled at you as he showed you his paper.

After the teams were made, the first game started, Pictionary.

Winner: Team O’Hara, Gabi came up with the name and said that your last name would be O’Hara for the night. A few unspeakable thoughts appeared in your head.

Next game: Trivia

Winner: Team O’Hara

The next and final game was a scavenger hunt around the house.

“Ok, next clue. What’s round and silver that whistles when hot? God, these are easy. Who wrote these clues?” Miguel chuckled as he led the way to the kitchen.

“Who do you think?” You chuckle as you walk behind him with Gabi holding your hand.

“Sam.” Miguel chuckled as he made his way to the kettle and opened up the lid, finding the next clue as he grabbed one of the slips and handed it to you. Reading it, you laugh.

“We could have done this blindfolded and still be in the lead.”

You go to the living room where your brothers and Tyler sit, trying to figure out the second clue. Walking to the fireplace, you move a log and find the paper with glitter on it, indicating you won.

“We won!” You say in excitement as you join in a group victory hug with Miguel and Gabi.

“Thats game! Team O’Hara wins game night!” Your father said, earning groans from Team Bud Light, your brothers, and Tyler’s team.

“Of course we had no chance when the geniuses were all put on one team.” Grumbled Tyler.

“You’re just jealous.” You tell him, which makes Tyler smirk as he grabs you by the waist and pulls you into his lap, and gives you a kiss on the lips. You push his chest away and move off his lap, sitting next to him as you fix your hair.

“Tyler! There are other people here.” Your cheeks flushed, embarrassed by his actions. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer to him. “I just want to tell everyone that you're my girl.” Tyler chuckled before he briefly glared at Miguel as if he was giving him a warning. Miguel grinned, not caring. As he knew who y/n truly favored.

After talking for a bit longer, Miguel noticed Gabi getting sleepy as it was getting late. He picked her up and said his goodbyes to everyone before walking back home.

“Daddy?”

“Si, Princesa.”

“I don’t like y/n’s boyfriend.”

“Why is that?” Miguel chuckled at his daughter’s words, amused.

“He took her away every time she tried to spend time with us after the game. I didn’t like it.” Gabi rubbed one of her eyes as she yawned.

“Yeah, I didn’t like it either.”

———-

It was 4pm when you arrived at the soccer field to pick up Gabi. As you parked your car and got out, you walked to the field where you saw from afar a group of 5-year-olds huddled up before they dispersed to find their parents.

“Y/n!” Gabi ran up and hugged you, which you gladly returned.

“Hey there! Are you excited for your first sleepover?”

“Yeah!” Gabi cheered as you took her hand and walked to your car.

After driving back to Miguel’s house, where he gave you a spare key, you got Gabi cleaned up and dressed before driving to her friend’s house.

Getting out of the car, you grab her sleeping bag and backpack as you walk up to the house. “Now remember, Gabi, ask Ms. Johnson to call me or your father if you need us, ok?”

“Ok!” Gabi smiled as she bounced on her feet, very excited about her first sleepover. You smiled down at her before knocking on the door. When it opened, the woman’s face grew slightly disappointed when she saw you but her emotions turned to happiness when she saw Gabi.

“Hi, Gabi darling. I’m happy to have you over. Sofia and Rachel are super excited for the sleepover. Come in.” She opens the door for both of you.

“Bye, y/n!” Gabi hugged you before going to play with her friends in their room.

“So, O’Hara likes them young, I see.” Said Ms. Johnson.

“Excuse me?” You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion.

“Oh, I’m just saying I didn’t know Miguel liked to date college girls.”

“Ok, first off, nice to meet you too. And second off, I’m not dating Miguel. I'm Gabi's babysitter.” You say as you narrow your eyes slightly at the woman whose eyes widen by her mistake.

“Oops, my bad. Good to know he’s still single. Those hot rich single fathers are hard to find.” The woman chuckled, which only made things more awkward and annoying for you.

“Forgot to mention I’m also a close family friend of his. I’ll make sure to mention your fondness for him. Nice meeting. Bye.” You say before leaving and getting back into your car.

God, some of these suburban housewives are insane.

After returning to your childhood home for some last-minute packing, you decided to sleep at your shared apartment with Tyler. You both moved in there together before you went off to Europe.

As soon as you unlocked the door and stepped inside, you knew something was wrong. All the hairs on your body stood up as your stomach twisted into knots. You saw two used wine glasses on the kitchen counter and clothes sprawled along the floor leading to the bedroom.

Inching your way closer, the moans from a woman could be heard coming from the other room. Your mind knew what was happening, yet you still wanted to check, a small hint of doubt forming inside you. Maybe it’s just your imagination.

As soon as you open the door to your once-shared bedroom, you see your boyfriend fucking a random woman from behind. And since they were so in the moment, they didn’t realize you walk in. Rage filled your body as you walked back out of the bedroom, slamming the door.

That got their attention as you heard Tyler swear and call out your name as he opened the door. However, you already grabbed your bag and stormed out of the apartment. You had gotten in your car when Tyler ran out of the building half-naked. But it was too late to stop you as you drove off.

The rage subsided and was replaced with pain as you felt like you were stabbed in the chest and straight through the heart. Tears were streaming down your face, making driving slightly harder as the tears blurred your vision.

You pull into the driveway as you get out of the car, walk up to the door, and knock. A few minutes passed when the door opened, revealing Miguel in sweats and a black tank top.

“Y/n? What happened?” Miguel’s eyes widened when he saw your tears as he led you into the house and closed the door. Miguel held you against his chest as you wept. Brushing your hair back from your face. He leaned down, cupping your cheeks as he tried to wipe away your tears. It pained him to see you like this.

You stopped shedding tears as the lust began to cloud them. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. Miguel immediately returned your kiss as he touched your hips and pulled you closer.

“Y/n…” Miguel pulled away, coming back to reality.

“Please, Miguel. I’ve missed you.” You looked up at him with want. He knew what you were asking of him. And he was gladly going to give it to you. His gaze matched your lustful one as he picked you up by your thighs, and you wrapped them around his waist. His lips captured yours into a heated kiss. He then carried you upstairs to his bedroom, where he gently laid you on his bed.

Miguel kissed your lips down to your neck and chest as he gently removed your clothes. His lips met yours again before separating as he gazed down at you with a loving smile and brushed his hand gently over your tear-stained cheek.

“I’ll take care of you tonight, mi amor.”

————————————————————————-

Hope you enjoyed the chapter💕💕💕

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[show-your-fangs]

My trauma from certain chapters of Moments might’ve come up with something for a blurb. I’d die to see Jack expressing himself over not liking Beth and some sort of moment between reader Aaron and Jack where Jack makes it clear that he sees reader as a mother figure which makes Aaron pull his head out of his ass and makes the right chooce IMMEDIATELY for once👀 Or idk maybe not even Beth related but it would be cool to see Jack not wanting to lose another mother figure

I just love my little trio of hotchner boys and reader they’re such a little family I could cry

gosh as much as i am a beth hater, i could not find a way to fit this into moments. however, chapter 24 is literally just domestic fluff so you'll be fed GOOD when it comes out.

here's just a cute little moments au blurb where jack calls reader mom and aaron almost loses it.

This is part one of two Moment AU asks that I thought would go perfectly together.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!Reader

Words: 788

CW: nothing, just fluff.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

"Can we invite mom to dinner?" Jack's question filled the quiet apartment with a heaviness that Aaron couldn’t quite understand. Haley had just dropped the boy off at his apartment after spending the better part of the week at her place.

"Buddy, I don't think mom wants to come all the way here—” 

“Did I do something wrong?” Jack practically whimpered and Aaron was rendered speechless once more, his brows scrunching further. That just made the poor boy look even more disheartened. His round eyes practically bursting as he tried to figure out what he could’ve possibly done to offend. 

Aaron crossed the room to him in an instant, crouching down to his level as he sat at the dinner table finishing up on some school work. 

“You did nothing wrong, buddy,” he said, gently, making sure that the words settled. “I just don’t think we should ask your mom to come over for dinner when she just spent the week with you.”

“I don’t wanna invite mommy to dinner,” Jack corrected him, as if he’d been correct this entire time and it was his dad who was not getting it. “I wanna invite mom.”

It took Aaron a few seconds to blink away the misunderstanding, confusion twisting into shock. Jack had called you mom, Jack had just…called you mom. A smile crept up on Aaron’s lips, one that Jack matched instantly as he realized his dad had just understood him. 

“Do you want to call mom and invite her to dinner?” he asked the boy and he lit up like never before. Aaron pulled out his phone and immediately called you, putting it on speaker phone and handing the device over to Jack as he returned to the kitchen. 

“Hi, honey,” your voice was warm and inviting and he wanted nothing more than to respond to you, but he wanted to experience your shock, the shock that Jack had just given him, more than anything. 

“Mom!” Jack practically screamed into microphone.

“Hi, angel,” Aaron could hear you stifle a sob and he couldn’t help but tear up with you. 

“Hi!” Jack was too hyper, getting any words in difficult. “Dad’s making dinner!”

“What’s he making?”

“Dad!” Aaron couldn’t help the laugh that erupted, so much screaming, so much energy. He walked out of the kitchen and took the phone from the boy, turning off speakerphone before he addressed you.

“He’s making boxed Mac n Cheese with hot dogs,” Aaron replied, a smile in his voice. 

“Aaron—” you sobbed into his ear.

“I know, he got me too.”

“Did you know?”

“No,” he chuckled. “But I definitely do now.”

“Dad, give me back the phone!” Jack whined, pulling on Aaron’s arm until he could press his mouth to the microphone once more. “Can you come to dinner, please?” 

He stretched out that last word until he was gasping for breath, making both you and Aaron laugh. 

“Yes, angel, I’ll be there in a second, alright?” 

“Mmkay!” 

“I’ll see you soon, mom,” Aaron teased.

“I’m fully sobbing at a red light, just so you know,” you tried to make him feel bad but it honestly didn’t matter. Jack saw you as his mom, and nothing could take that away from you.

“I love you,” Aaron said. 

“I love you too.”

Jack was engrossed in his worksheet once he finally hung up the phone. Aaron watched him for a second, how his tongue stuck out of his mouth while he concentrated, how he gripped the pencil in his hand like it would somehow slip away, how all of his things had spread out across the table as if he quite literally owned the place. 

Jack had that effect on people, that easy way of taking over someone's heart in a way that only you could do as well. Aaron had been sure from the first time he introduced the two of you that you were soulmates, that he was meant to bring the two of you together.

Jack loved you so much it was overwhelming at times, his own kid clearly trying to one up him at every turn. But it didn't matter, Aaron knew Jack was your favorite, even if you constantly reassured him that you loved both your boys equally.

“Would you like her to be your mom forever?” He asked. 

Jack nodded enthusiastically, pencil dropping and attention back to his dad. “And ever and ever.”

Aaron smiled brightly, fully, like the sun had taken control of him and he couldn’t stop. It was a silent promise, a definitive choice, a reminder of the small velvet box he’d hidden in the back of his closet a few days ago.

“Do you want to help me ask her?”

jack is my perfect child and i would kill for him

requests are still open for hotch and i am trying to get to the ones i've received. it's taking me a second because of just how many other open projects i've got, but trust me, they will get done.

tags: @canuck-eh, @ssamorganhotchner, @criminalskies, @xladyxdreamer

[222col]

Your womanize!Art fic is too good to be true seriously. Can you please right a fic about womanizer Art who can't move on from his first and only love who made him become a womanizer because he realized that he can't love another girl who's not her. One day he meets her in a bar drunk because she had an argument with her boyfriend and Art takes this opportunity to convince her to leave her boyfriend and go back to him by begging her and being her little good boy

oh my lord yes, thank u so much !!

"when you gonna think about settling down, art?" patrick asks him, the two of them sat at their hotel bar mid tour. "never thought you'd be the one asking me that, pat." art laughs, sipping on his whiskey. "i know, but we're getting older, artie. we can't just keep fucking anything that moves." they look at each other, laughing their way through more drinks. "i'm happy just fucking anything that moves, easier than a relationship." art breathes out, fiddling with his glass. "you can't seriously still be hung up over her?" patrick asks, looking to his friend, art knowing exactly what and who he's referring. art had only been in one real relationship his whole life, meeting you at college and immediately falling head over heels. the two of you were together for a few years, but when art went on tour, everything fell apart. he cheated on you, you cheated on him, it got messy. neither of you meant to hurt each other, both lonely and needing attention while art was half way across the world. you were the only person art had ever loved, patrick still convinced that art never did fall out of love with you.

"patrick, that was half a lifetime ago." art sighs, lifting his glass, signalling a refill to the bartender. "you're not denying it though.." patrick pushes, eager to hear the confession from his friend. "i'm not 'hung up' on her, i just don't think i'll feel about someone else the way i do about her." art articulates, bringing his glass to his lips. sipping down the brown liquor, enjoying the burn down his throat as a distraction from you. "do feel about her?" patrick's smirking now, holding his own drink in his hand, repeating art's words back to him. "do, did, whatever. i'm never gonna fall in love with someone how i did in college, don't want to." patrick's hand pats art on the back, picking up his jacket and standing from the stool. "well, unlike you donaldson, i don't mind the idea of actually having feelings, hence why i'm off on a date, take it easy, buddy." patrick disappears, leaving art alone sat at the bar.

art knows that patrick is right, there's something about you that art just never got over. it's not like he never forgave you for how it all ended, he wasn't exactly innocent either. it's not the relationship that he never got over, it was you. art had been in love with you since the day he caught your eye in the cafeteria back at stanford, and he still was to this day. half the reason he sleeps around and never dates is because he knows it'll never compare, no one will ever compare to you. art knows he's getting older, knows he should be thinking about settling down, starting a family, getting ready for the day retirement comes, but art only pictures that with you. it's not like he hasn't seen you since you broke up all those years ago, the two of you speak on the phone every couple of months, meet up for sex when he's in your city or when he flies you out to him, you've even been to a few of his matches. he hadn't heard from you for a while, some excuse about having a boyfriend now, never stopped you before, he'd always think when you told him you couldn't see him this time.

finishing his glass, art leaves the hotel and heads to a bar he always goes to in the current city he's in on tour. sitting himself on a stool at the bar, ordering a beer and watching the world go by. "something strong, please." art hears from the stool three people down, leaning over to confirm his suspicions, it's you. trying desperately to hide the grin plastered on his face as he notices the mascara down your cheeks. standing up from his stool, he pulls you around into his arms. "wha- art." your body melts against his tall frame when you feel the familiarity of his grasp. "what are you doing here? what's wrong?" he asks you, letting you out of his grip. taking your drink from the bartender and leading the two of you to a small table in the corner. trying your best to wipe the stained skin under your eyes. "i hate that you're seeing me like this, it's so embarrassing." you half laugh across the table. "you still look hot." art shrugs, smirking to you. "now please tell me what's going on?" his hands reach across the table to hold yours, accepting, you begin to explain to art the argument with your boyfriend. "i know you don't want to hear this, we were in town for a weekend away, and it just went so sour. we had a big screaming match so i just started walking, i remembered you talking me here so that's where i ended up." art strokes the skin on the back of your hand, gritted teeth as he listens to you. "he sounds just lovely." art spits out sarcastically, through rolled eyes. "art, don't." you sigh, keeping one of his hands in yours, sipping your drink with the other.

"come home to me, i'd never treat you like that." art's whole demeanour changes, softens, he's always been sweet but you've never seen him quite like this. "yeah, we had our issues at the end but we never argued like that." your heart is in your stomach. you'd always thought art would be your future, but you didn't think you'd both find your way back to each other. "art, i can't-" you start, your hand still resting in his as he brings it up to his lips to softly kiss your knuckles. "baby, please, come back to me. he sounds like an asshole, just come home to me instead." your eyes flutter closed, breathing deeply, really considering art's words. "i want you back, okay? i always have, since the day you left i've wanted you back." he's begging you, your first love, your beautiful blonde first love, across the table from you, ten years later, asking for you back. "art, we both hurt each other, both did things we shouldn't have, i don't wanna hurt you again, i don't want you to hurt me again." art shuffles his chair in closer, leaning over to be as close to you as the table will let him. "we wouldn't do that again, you could come on tour with me, travel the world with me, be with me again." his free hand moves to stroke the skin on your cheek, feeling you melt against the contact. "stop fighting how you feel, i know you still love me too." eyes closing softly again, breathing deep, love me too, after all these years, you both never moved on fully. always being drawn back to each other. "let me show you good i can be for you." eyes fluttering open, looking to the blonde through your lashes. "take me home, then."

it's like slow motion, the road lit by street lights and neon signs, hand in art's as he pulls you along to his hotel. turning back to look at you, smirking, eyes dark. his lips first attaching to yours in the elevator up to his room, hands caressing your body, soft moans against your lips. "i've missed you." he mumbles, lips on your neck. inhaling the perfume, the same one you've been wearing all these years, high of the scent of you. "i know, i've missed you, art." hands pulling and grasping at his hair, as the elevator doors open. walking you out down the hall, lips still attached to yours, leading you with his body. "it's been so long since i've tasted you, too long." art mutters, fishing the key out of his pocket and pushing the two of you through his door. it had only been a year since art last fucked you, one weekend at your apartment before you met your boyfriend.

ripping your jacket off your body as the two of you slipped off your shoes, lips still attached to each other, undressing each other as quickly as you could, desperate to see each other fully. "god, i swear you get hotter each time i see you." art groans, laying you down on the bed, fully naked before him. "shut up, art." you chuckle, his body crawling on top of yours. "oh yeah, you gonna make me?" he teases, sloppy kisses placed down your chest. you hum at his response, pushing his head down between your legs. hands wrapped around his hair, his tongue disappearing into your cunt, lapping up your wetness. moans vibrating against you as art's tongue moves up to your clit, flicking over the sweet spot as the room fills with heavy breathing. "fuck- that's so fucking good, good boy." the vibrations ripple through you from art's mouth, the noises he's making almost louder than you, revelling in your sweetness. his hands wrapped around your thighs, pink tongue devouring you, his blue eyes overshadowed by lust as he looks up to you. keeping his gaze on you as he watches your back arch, hands gripping tighter on his hair. smirking into you as he feels your body jolt, thighs squeezing his head into you, his name echoing off the walls as you become undone on his tongue.

pulling his body up over you by his head, smirk covered in your wetness, dripping down his chin. pulling his swollen lips down to yours, legs wrapping around his waist as you flip the two of you over. art laid on his back, knees either side of him as your wetness starts to slip over his cock. grinding yourself against his length, feeling his tip rub against your clit. his arms snaking around you before pinning them down above his head, smirking up to you above him as you do. he knows he could get out of your grip if he tried, but he loves seeing you pin him down like this. lifting up your hips, holding art's arms with one hand as you line him up with your entrance. sliding down on him as your hands go back to holding his wrists against the bed. sitting up on his lap, rolling your hips against him as you sink down to the base of his cock. moans escaping both of you as you take him fully inside of you, his hips bucking up as you grind your hips against him. once adjusting, bouncing yourself up and down on his dick. art's eyes rolling back, his hips jumping up to keep meeting you there. finally letting his hands free as you steady yourself on his chest, his hands immediately reaching to your ass, helping guide you as he gropes your skin. "jesus, shit- you feel fucking amazing." you mutter, head leaning back as the two of you fuck each other at speed. his cock bigger than anyone's you'd fucked, seeing the bulge of him in your stomach as his hips slap against your skin. "so pretty like this, all mine." art mumbles, eyes on yours. your body falling against him, lips attacking his, tongues sliding over each others as art pounds himself up into you. "cum on my cock, baby please, i've missed how it feels."

art's words, and the speed in which he's fucking you, send you over the edge. orgasming for the second time today, clenching down against him as his arms around your body keep you still. moans hitting his ears as art's thrusts get sloppy, eyes in the back of his head as he curses his way to orgasm. painting your walls as your name leaves his lips, bodies sticky with sweat, collapsing against each other as his cock stays inside you. "fuck me, that gets better every time." art chuckles into your neck, his chest still rising and falling at pace. laughing back at him, kissing his cheek, jaw and neck. "i mean it you know, i want you back, for real." art mumbles, finally slipping out of you. "i want the same thing art." you smile, placing your lips softly to his forehead. "are we actually gonna try and make a proper go of it this time?" you laugh to him, moving to lay next to him on the bed. "i know, so unlike us." art laughs back, his fingers drawing circles on your hip. "you're my future, i don't wanna lose you again." he whispers against your lips. "me neither."

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Christmas Time: Yandere Buddy Daddies x Teen Delinquent Reader

The sight of snow behind the luxury condo’s window still felt odd to you

 Even with the fluffy insulating blanket around your body it still felt…weird

You didn’t look at the orange and flower embroidered blanket rustling next to you

With a yawn, Miri poked her head out to look for you

“(Y/n)? W-where oh, there you are.”

She scooched up to you 

Shoving her way past your arms and into the comfort of your blanket, cozying up to your body

The sight of snow behind the luxury condo’s window still felt odd to you

 Even with the fluffy insulating blanket around your body it still felt…weird

You didn’t look at the orange and flower embroidered blanket rustling next to you

With a yawn, Miri poked her head out to look for you

“(Y/n)? W-where oh, there you are.”

She scooched up to you 

Shoving her way past your arms and into the comfort of your blanket, cozying up to your body

“You always up so early… it's like you’re trying to leave me out.”

“I’d never Miri.”

She hummed clutching at your matching pajamas

You didn’t bother looking away from the snow sighing to yourself

“Is this your first time seeing snow?”

It was Re–Papa Rei who somehow quietly slotted himself next to you 

His hair was pulled back and he was wearing a nice suit with little tears

“Another...bad interview?”

“...Yeah…” He forgot that’s what they’ve been telling you two

“So first time?”

“...No, just the first time I’m inside for it.”

You could feel him looking at you 

“I heard…I know…the snow’s really different when you’re not surviving against it.”

You looked at him, listlessly worried for you 

Before turning your attention back to the window

“Alright, everyone! Are special cozy Christmas brunch is ready!”

Miri sluggishly perked up still wobbly with the effects of early morning/night gift giving

Thanks to circumstance Papa Kazuki had to be really roundabout when bringing Miri home

So all three of you spent the night napping irregularly and driving around

Only returning past midnight and forced to open presents early due to Miri’s demand Republic dictatorship

You didn’t mind it, getting more things you’d never imagine yourself holding in three lifetimes

And receiving kisses and hugs from everyone for gifts you don’t remember wrapping

It felt strange

With Miri slowly waking up her and Kazuki’s shouts of a feast almost underway

Beckoning you and Rei to join

With one more look at you, he went stripping off his work attire

It was Papa Kazuki who came to you 

Standing in front of you to block the window

“You too grumpy pants! Come on up you go!”

He made the motions with his hand before he went to grab you

Picking you up with ease as he made his way to the dinner table

you thought he’d put you down once you got there but he carries you still

Stopping before your designated chair

“Uhm Papa-Kazuki?”

“Yes, bug?”

“Can you put me down?”

“Hmmm?”

The blonde-brunette pretended to think 

To which you rolled your eyes

Giving a reluctant kiss to his cheek 

He finally let you down

“Awww you’re so well-behaved. Merry Christmas (Y/n)!”

“Mewwy Cwistmas!”

“Miri take your time and chew your food!”

“Omkay.”

“...Happy Christmas (Y/n).”

You sighed looking down at your plate full of all your favorites

Then back at your…family

“Thanks, guys, uh Merry Christmas?”

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Hello hello!!! I have another request for the Mutefemreader with ghost if that’s okay. She gets paired with him to spar because all the other soldiers already have their partners. And she’s just like 🥲”oh god.” But after a bit of sparring theres ✨Tension~✨

Thank you! Love ur work sm 🎊🎊🎊💞💞

Thank you! Hmmm yess I love this @thedevillovesflowers ❤️

Also so sorry for how this took thank you for being patient ❤️

Fiery Touch

Warnings: suggestive, tension, mdni (18+ just to be safe)

Words: 3.7k

Readers call sign is “Quiet”

I'm not good at writing action scenes yet lol

Dread and a bruised ego is definitely what you would use to describe the current feelings going through you at this moment. Those things combined together were enough to make you feel too exhausted to continue to train even though you started not even an hour ago. 

It was Price’s fault. You didn’t dare outwardly blame him but you couldn’t help but send him sharp looks from the corner of your eye across the training room as you stood with your arms crossed over your chest. You were waiting for Ghost, hoping that he wouldn’t show but knowing that the man never missed training even if he had been injured. 

Ghost was your training partner, or more like you were Ghost’s, but Price had paired you up more than enough times to make it so you were stuck together. On normal days it didn’t matter, you both spotted each other when you lifted weights and helped keep each other on task when exercising. He was surprisingly a good motivator and though he didn’t need your encouragement, you still gave it to him.

You two made pretty good partners and you had noticed that since you had been paired up together, you’ve gained some muscles. Ghost being a good workout buddy was just one more thing added to the list of things that you liked about him.

Today however, was not a normal day. Today you were doing something you’ve come to dislike since you’ve joined the task force.

Sparring.

You had been the best at sparring in your old regiment. No one could match your agility and your ability to always find a weak point in your opponent which may have made you a little too proud in your abilities. Now you felt like your skills weren’t even passable, almost being as bad as a rookie’s, and it was because of the man who finally walked through the doors of the training room.

Despite Ghost’s size, he was agile and quick on his feet enough to where it seemed like he had predicted your moves before you even thought about them. He had strength from the hulk of muscles and body mass he had which made his punches staggering. And worst of all for you, Ghost had no weak points.

You had tried everything to find it but there was nothing that would work. He deflected every try like swatting a fly away, like it was merely a minor inconvenience to him. He never reacted to your attempts and instead retaliated with his own ways of exploiting your weakness. He never failed to knock you down or to pin you to the mat which bruised your ego but fueled his.

You’d take your defeat in stride if it weren’t for the fact that he gloated when you lost. 

Not only did he rub it in your face with words but you could always tell he had a smug look on his face by the way he looked at you. He never tried to hide it and unfortunately for him his eyes were too expressive to even attempt that, though it seemed like he wanted you to see the way he looked at you. Proud, high off the strength he just displayed and so happy to remind you that you’ll never be as good as him.

It pissed you off and you knew that the reason you were always paired up with him was to get you to be better than you were.

“What’s with the look, sergeant?” Ghost wondered as he came up to you and that was when you realized you had been glaring at him. “We haven’t even started yet.”

“Just thinking about how I’m going to beat your ass.” You shrugged nonchalantly and he tilted his head.

There was a twinkle in his eyes that for anyone else could’ve been seen as condescending but you could tell that he was both equally amused and intrigued by your determination. His eyes squinted ever so slightly, a sign that he was smiling as he looked you up and down, slowly carving away at that false confidence with his burning stare.

Did he enjoy knocking you down a peg? You weren’t arrogant, in fact you rarely ever spoke about your abilities to anyone but it seemed like Ghost found happiness in beating you. 

Maybe he was competitive or maybe he was just teasing you. It could also be because he wanted you to get better but you never remembered to ask.

“Cheeky.” He stepped forward, pushing himself into your space as he looked down his masked nose at you. “But can you live up to those words?”

You stared up at him, your bodies close enough that you could see the way his chest rose and fell with each breath he took. You knew he was trying to playfully intimidate you, hoping that you take the bait and give him a little bit of banter to work with before you both started, but he was doing something completely different to you.

Ghost was big. Everyone knew this and it wasn’t hard to miss but being up this close to him was uncommon. You had never paid attention to the way he would sometimes wander into your space and stay there, looming over your shoulder from behind since you were so used to being around him already. But being face to face with him, so close that you were sure if you could see his face you’d be able to pick out the details of it really put into perspective just how big he really was.

The muscles in his arms were visible to you since he was wearing a shirt that had the sleeves cut off of it and was also rather tight fitting. While you could see muscles on his torso, you could tell that he was toned but still somehow kept a lot of the bulk from fat on his body as well. You could see some of the scars he had on his arm, the veins that ran across the very large muscles that he had gained from years of working. 

You couldn’t help but ogle at him despite the fact that Ghost was watching you. Ever since your first mission together, it was hard to ignore how your feelings had changed towards him and that came with how you saw him physically.

You weren’t sure what the feelings were, it was too early to tell. However, whatever it was, it was taking over your mind with…inappropriate thoughts about your lieutenant.

Sometimes you couldn’t help but think about how his hand fit perfectly into yours or how you really liked the way he looked at you as if he was seeing who you were, past the silence and the sign language. The hurt woman that he saw in the cabin, but it wasn’t bad, it was almost like he was acknowledging that he understood you.

And then there were the other thoughts, the ones that crept into your mind at the dark hours of the night when you were alone in your room.

You blinked them away before they even appeared and tried to regain your cockiness. 

“Fight me and find out.” You flashed him a smile and you saw his eyes bounce down to your lips for a split second.

“Get on the mat.” He demanded and you nodded.

You stepped on the mat, stretching your arms and shoulder as you prepared to put up a fight against your lieutenant. You were determined to win this time, to prove to your lieutenant that you were an excellent fighter and that it didn’t matter if he was larger than you or stronger. You belonged in the task force and even if he never made you feel unwelcome, you still felt the need to prove it.

Ghost stood in front of you, shoulders squared and his arms to his side as he waited for you to get ready. He stared at you with narrowed eyes full of determination and a seriousness that came from his title.

You ignored his scrutiny and took a deep breath, grounding yourself to the mat before you gave him a hard stare that signaled that you were ready for whatever was in store.

As soon as you got into a fighting stance, Ghost struck first. He didn’t give you a chance to react as pushed you hard against your shoulder and swept your leg out from under you, causing your back to hit the mat with a loud thump.

“Too slow.” He shook his head as he stood over you, unaffected by your glare.

You weren’t expecting him to go easy, in fact you didn’t want him to, and yet this quick defeat had irritation boiling inside the bottom of your stomach. 

You hopped back up from the mat and swung at Ghost, missing each time as he managed to dodge every single one of your punches. His eyes never left you, his gaze burning holes into you as he snatched one of your wrists and tossed you on the mat easily.

He shook his head again with eyes that showed disapproval, an action that made you smack a hand against the material under you. This was a bad start for you and you knew that you were going to have to put in more effort than you have before to win this.

“Just warming up.” You huffed and he nearly rolled his eyes.

“There’s no warming up on the field.” He snapped back and you sent him a glare.

You got back up, taking a moment to get back into a stance before you raised your fists, keeping your eyes trained on Ghost. Your heart was already beating fast and yet he didn’t seem to be too affected by your earlier attempts which made you clench your jaw.

You threw another punch and managed to hit him on the shoulder, but the only reaction you got out of him was a punch that you barely dodged. 

It was enough to get your adrenaline pumping however, and you both spent a few minutes trading punches and kicks, getting into a good rhythm that allowed you both to learn each other's routine as if this was the first time you both were sparring together. 

Ghost was quick. He didn’t pull his punches and he stepped into your personal space to crowd you as he attempted to throw you off balance or beat you down, within reason. He kept you on your toes, making it so you had to rely on pure instinct and adrenaline to keep yourself in the round. All while glaring at you, another attempt to catch you off guard in an attempt to threaten you and yet it did the opposite.

You pushed his punches out of the way and threw your own, managing to hit him a few times purely by luck.

Sweat formed on your skin and you were breathing heavily. You felt like you were working in fast motion, as if your senses were heightened. It gave you a rush, one that you hadn’t felt since your time before joining the task force.

You got cocky, thinking that you could do anything. You stepped into Ghost’s space, pushing him back and throwing a quick punch while trying to swipe his feet out from under him, thinking that it was going to work. 

However, you should’ve known better.

Ghost grabbed onto your wrist and twisted it behind your back with an iron grip. He wrapped an arm around your throat and held you against his front in a firm grip even as you dug your nails into his forearm with your free hand. 

You were burning up, sweat dampening your clothes from the exercise and having Ghost’s hot body pressed against your back didn’t help. Up this close you could hear his heavy breathing and feel the sweat from his skin against your own, his strong muscles flexing against you as he kept you in place while you struggled.

“C’mon,” he grunted in your ear between heavy breaths. “You can do it.”

All thoughts went out the window as you felt his hot breath on your neck through his mask and. Suddenly you were all too aware of the fact that he was holding you against him and your ass was pressed against a very sensitive part of his body. Your body went hot and your breath hitched in your throat as you thought about how this position would be a lot different if both of you were somewhere more private.

Yoru stomach flipped and you attempted to hook your ankle around his leg to get him down and your hips bucked back into him.

Ghost let go of your arm and moved his hand to your hip, gripping onto it tight to stop you from moving. His breathing suddenly went ragged and he dug his fingers into the hem of your pants.

You sucked in your lips to keep in the noise that nearly escaped your mouth and tapped twice on his arm to signal you were done.

Both of you separated immediately, taking multiple steps to put distance between you both as you caught your breath. You could breathe again and yet it was like there wasn’t enough air to fill your lungs as the heat from your body made you feel dizzy. You were hunched over, staring at the mat below and watched as sweat dripped off onto before you glanced up at your lieutenant.

You shouldn’t have been surprised to see him staring at you and yet you felt even more breathless when your eyes connected.

There was something there, something heated in the way his eyes went somewhat hooded. His chest heaved up and down while his eyes bounced around your face before trailing towards your back side for just a split second.

“Give up already?” He signed and you clenched your jaw.

“Again.” You demanded and stood up straight.

You were far from ready to go again but you couldn’t give up and you couldn’t let the smug bastard win. You stepped back in front of him and got back into a stance, however your eyes were too focused on the way his damp shirt clung to his chest, how you could almost see some of the muscles hidden underneath as he huffed.

Ghost grabbed your wrists and positioned them properly, the contact making your skin tingle as you looked him in the eyes. He didn’t look away from you as he moved your fists to where they should be while his fingers grazed your knuckles.

“Legs apart.” He tapped your shoes with his and you did as he told as you tried to ignore the flip of your stomach from his words.

Damn your brain.

You took a deep breath, and though it did little to calm your nerves, you were able to at least go back to focusing on sparring with the man in front of you. 

He threw the first punch again and before long you both were back into the rhythm you had. All previous thoughts were slowly leaving your mind, even when you both managed to touch each other, unable to regain that initial quickness. 

Ghost threw you down on the mat no matter how many times you tried to knock him off balance. He wrapped his arm around your waist, holland you close for only a second before he slammed you down, causing you to let out a wheeze as you laid there catching your breath.

“You’re distracted.” He loomed over you and caught your attention. “You need to clear your mind.”

You heat creep onto your face and you found it hard to look him in the eye. Did he know what you were thinking about? How hard it was for you to clear your mind when he was touching you, when he was looking at you with desire in his dark eyes? As much as you hated it, him being in control of the sparring was enough to have you feeling a little weak in the knees as you slowly stood up.

Even worse, you were sure he was thinking the same thoughts you were. You wondered how he was able to stay focused if that was the truth but Ghost was always focused. 

No weaknesses. Nothing out of his control.

You nodded but you were beyond doing what he said. There was no way to clear your mind, not when the heat traveled down between your legs as you thought about what he could do to get rid of it.

You shook the thoughts away. You couldn’t believe how inappropriate you were being towards Ghost, your superior. You had to keep reminding yourself that as you went back to sparring with him, trying your best to go back to your original goal of finally beating him.

He’s a rank above you. He’s your superior. It’s wrong, it would cost you both your jobs, he probably didn’t feel the same. 

Oh, he touched you again.

Ghost managed to twist you around again but before you could face him again, he wrapped his legs around yours and pulled them out from under you. After you caught yourself from face planting, he grabbed your ankle and flipped you over before he pinned you down.

His knee was firmly planted on your inner thigh and he gripped your wrists tightly while pressing them into the mat. He hovered over you, his breath hitching in his throat when you both made eye contact and a deep sigh left his heavy chest. His eyes bounced around your face and he leaned just a little closer to you.

It would be easy to kiss him like this. You wondered what his lips felt like, if they were rough or soft, how they would feel against yours, against your neck or other places. You swallowed hard before you parted your lips at the thought of him worshiping you with his mouth in the ways that you wanted him to.

You had enough self control to not kiss him through the mask at this moment, but it was slowly waning away as you looked him in the eyes. You never realized how pretty his eyes were until now. You could look into them for as long as he’d let you and it still wouldn’t be enough. 

His beauty only spurred on more thoughts and for the first time ever you wondered what he looked like beneath the mask.

Ghost tightened his hold on your wrists for just a moment. His eyes narrowed slightly, and something more than just desire slipped into them, something that made your chest warm up and made you settle into the mat beneath you.

“Looks like you lost again, sergeant.” He mumbled, his voice lower and softer than normal.

“Sergeant.” A reminder, you told yourself.

It was true, you did lose, yet you weren’t angry about it. You couldn’t muster up enough to make you want to push him off, to give some snarky comment and retreat with your shattered ego in your hands.

Ghost let off your wrists and it took everything in your power to not wrap your arms around his neck to keep him where he was. Instead, you watched him climb off of you and stood with his back partially to you, his fingers curling up into a fist for a few seconds while he turned his attention to the training room around you both.

You sat up, resting your hand on your knee as you decompressed from the intense training and emotions that had just ran through you. You weren’t sure if you could do anymore today, not when you were this unfocused.

Ghost caught your attention by offering you a hand that you eagerly took just so you could feel his skin against yours. He grabbed yours firmly and pulled you up with ease, his other hand coming to rest on your waist even after you had already balanced yourself.

You stared up at him expectantly but he moved away from you, his gaze going to somewhere else in the room.

“Good work, Quiet. We’re done.” He said and stepped back from you. 

You nodded and stepped off the mat, making your way towards the exit while waving good-bye to the others on the way. You tried to ignore the feeling of his eyes on your back as you gathered your things, pushing away the warmth that crept up the back of your neck.

After you grabbed your things, you glanced back just as you were about to leave and your stomach flipped when you saw that Ghost was still staring at you. You gave him one last wave before you left through the doors and it was like he could breathe again.

It took everything in Ghost to not follow you out of the training room. There were so many emotions running through him that it was impossible for him to do anything but stare at you like an idiot, the words to say anything completely gone from his tongue. 

Whatever happened on the mat was dangerous for you both. Those feelings, the ones where he thought about how your skin would feel under his fingers, what you would look like as he slipped his hand between your thighs or when he pressed a kiss to your neck were dangerous. It was wrong of him to think of you in such a vulnerable and inappropriate way, to want to undress you and have you dig your nails into him enough to draw blood, but knowing that you were thinking the same made it worse.

He knew. He could see the way your eyes darkened from the similar thoughts and how you got all hot and bothered when you couldn’t shake them away.

He was lucky he had enough self control to stop those feelings from taking over, even though he desperately wanted to know what it was like to hold you against him in a very different way than he had before. Had he let them take control, he was sure you would’ve knocked him on the mat and exposed him, his feelings, his dirty thoughts.

Ghost had no weakness except when it came to you.

[babygirlbenji]

Last Train To London - Mason Mount

A/N: This is just pure sadness. It was fun to write, I'll give you that, but you may need a tissue. Mason, buddy, in this fic, ya done fucked up.

Listen to this while reading:

Warnings: Angst

It had happened slowly, then before you knew it, you and Mason were like passing ships in the ocean. 

Your relationship had always been steadfast. You were the couple everyone wanted to be, everyone wanted what you had. His family adored you, especially Summer, who loved going shopping with her Auntie Y/N. His mum swore up and down right from the moment she had met you six months into your relationship that you were it for him, that you would be the one he would marry. He’d shared the same sentiments. In your nearly four years together, the fans had grown to know and adore you on a level no football wife or girlfriend had experienced before. You were so popular among the Chelsea team, it was no wonder you were almost as popular as Mason was, and you didn’t even play for the team. 

In the weeks leading up to his move to Manchester, however, you had noticed a distinct change in Mason, and in your relationship. Date nights had gone from three or four times a week, to maybe once every fortnight. He spent much of the evenings on the phone or on Zoom calls with his agent, with the medical teams, with Manchester United representatives. The morning cuddles in bed had been replaced by a swift kiss on your forehead before he hurried off to training or the gym. You had initially put his distance down to the fact that he was busy upping his whole life to the north, and his occasional snappiness to the fact that he was incredibly stressed about the rumours. He was getting hate from everywhere, the fans, media outlets, even people on the street. Calling him a traitor, disloyal, every name under the sun. 

Once the transfer was completed and you and Mason had relocated to Manchester, you had hoped that your relationship would improve. You put in every effort you could; making sure you put extra effort into making sure the house was spick and span for when he came home, ensuring the fridge had all sorts of food for every occasion, making sure you looked good even when you were going to bed. 

And yet, you could tell none of it was good enough. His heart had drifted, you could see that. You were holding on to false hope, and it was exhausting you. You spent hours awake at night, noticing that some nights he wouldn’t come home until three or four in the morning. He would shuffle about downstairs, and the next morning, you would find him crashed out on the sofa, eyes red and his hair messy. 

You’d asked him if he was okay, if your relationship was okay, and all he had offered you was a shrug, saying he’d talk when he was ready. You’d sigh, knowing you were losing him, and there was nothing you could do about it. Once, he’d got angry that you had sighed, saying there was still a lot going on. You’d ended up having a shouting match that lasted well into the night, and you cried yourself to sleep on more than one occasions.

The loneliness you were starting to feel crept in even more. You missed your friends in London, you missed Chelsea, you were never particularly keen on moving up north, having been a born and bred Londoner. Although Kai and Sophia were now in North London, you would rather be closer to them. You didn’t want to admit to them that you and Mason were having issues, but you didn’t know where else to go. 

Sophia had been so helpful, offering her and Kai’s new home to you anytime you needed it. You’d asked her not to tell anyone, but you figured one way or another people would find out. Sure enough, one day, when Mason was out somewhere, Ben sent you a message.

Benjamin: Hey Y/N, just checking in. How are you holding up? I know how difficult it is moving to a new place. We miss you down here. Lots of love x

You had stared at his message for about five minutes, before you rang him. He picked up on the second ring.

‘Benji, I’m not okay,’ you croaked through the lump in your throat.

‘What’s happened, darling? Talk to me, I’m right here.’ And so, you told him everything. About the arguments, the loneliness, the distance…

‘I just don’t know what to do, Benj. I feel like we’re miles away from each other when we live in the same house. What did I do wrong? What happened to us? I thought we were endgame. What do I do?’ He sighed, making the line go crackly. 

‘You’ve done nothing wrong. I think everything’s gone to his head, and without wanting to be blunt, he’s realised what he wants and what he doesn’t want.’ His words sent a stake through your heart, but you knew he was right. Mason was falling out of love with you. 

‘I just never thought this would happen.’ 

‘Me neither. All of us thought you guys would last. So, what are you going to do?’ You looked down. You knew what you had to do, as much as it shattered your heart. 

‘I’m going to pack my things, as much as I can into whatever bags I have, and get on the last train home to London. It’s late, I think the last train to London from Manchester leaves just before midnight. I just can’t hold on any longer, you know? I’ve been miserable for weeks, and he’s barely noticed. I can’t remember the last time we hugged, kissed. I need to do this for me.’ 

‘I’ll pick you up, text me where your train gets in and I’ll be there. You’re not going through this alone, Y/N, I promise you. He’s the idiot for losing a wonderful girl like you.’ As devastated as you were, his words made you feel slightly better knowing that you weren’t going through it alone. You’d been through a break up before and had been completely on your own, and you were glad you had your people around you. 

You and Ben talked a little while longer, before you hung up, promising to tell him when your train would be getting in. You sat up from the sofa, knowing you had to pack a bag or two. 

It was nearly 11:30 at night when you’d finished packing. Placing your bags by the door, you made sure you had all your important things, like your passport, driving licence and your phone. You would iron out everything once you had things sorted out in London.

As you zipped up a little shoulder bag with all your necessities, the front door opened. You heard Mason drop his bags down, and you knew by the pause of movement that he had seen your bags. He walked slowly into the dimly lit kitchen, where you were standing with your phone in your hand, pretending to look at something just to avoid looking at him. You knew if you did look at him, you’d reverse your decision. 

‘What’s going on?’ Mason asked, voice full of confusion. You braved it, and looked him dead in the eye, hands on your hips.

‘I’m leaving. I’ll be on the last train back to London.’ He opened and closed his mouth a few times, reminding you of a goldfish.

‘What? What are you talking about?’ You let out a soft scoffing laugh.

‘I’m going back home. I’m breaking up with you, Mason, I can’t do this anymore. You have barely looked at me the last few weeks. I get it’s been stressful, I get you’ve been busy, but you don’t think you could have told me what was going on? You’re barely here anymore, I barely see you. And when I do, it’s like I’m seeing a stranger. When was the last time you hugged me? The last time you kissed me? This just doesn't feel like home.’ Your voice broke on the last sentence, and you looked down. You couldn’t cry. Not now, not in front of him. You had to wait until you were on the train home to let it all out. You could listen to sad music and let it all out. ‘The last four years have been amazing. We have grown up together, basically. And we’ve made the most amazing memories, hell, the Champions’ League, the Super Cup, World Cup, Euros, it’s all been a dream come true. But we have to face it, we are not happy together anymore. And I need to do what’s best for me, because I feel like a stranger in my own home.’

His face was a mix of anger, disappointment and downright heartache. He knew he’d lost you. He knew you well enough that you had made your mind up, and there was nothing he could do to turn back time and make it better. 

‘I have tried so hard…’ Your voice broke again. ‘I have tried so hard to make us work. I kept the house tidy, I put food on the table, I was there to listen but you never talked. You never made any effort after we moved up here. I dare to think this started even before we moved up here.’ He stepped closer, and it was then that you could see the tears pooling in his eyes. ‘I really hope you find the girl of your dreams, Mase. You deserve that. And I hope this move was worth it all.’ You looked down at the promise ring he’d given to you on your second anniversary. Sliding it off and gently placing it onto the counter, you took a deep breath. ‘Goodbye, Mason.’ 

And with that, you walked past him and collected your bags. Your Uber was waiting outside to take you to Manchester Central. As the car sped away, you saw Mason running out of the house, yelling your name. 

‘Y/N! Y/N, please wait! I’m sorry…’ His pleas faded as the car drove away. The driver looked at you through the rearview mirror, but you stared stubbornly out of the window. You couldn’t turn back now, he had to feel the pain you had been feeling the last few weeks. You had so many things to sort out when you were back in London; a job, a flat, your car, everything just seemed so overwhelming. 

As you climbed onto the high-speed sleeper train bound for King’s Cross, you texted Ben to tell him that your train would get in about 3 in the morning. He messaged you back:

Benjamin: No worries, will bring food. Keep strong, I'm so proud of you x

The train pulled away, and you rested your head against the window. Your breath fogged the glass as the lights of Manchester gradually faded away, giving way to dark fields and the occasional small village. Your phone pinged with another message:

Mason: I’m so sorry. 

Then another.

Mason: Please forgive me. 

And another.

Mason: What can I do to make things better? 

You looked at his last message. What could he do to make things better? Rewind the last few weeks? You sighed as your finger acted without thought and blocked his number. You then went onto Instagram and blocked his main verified account, then his private account. Before you blocked his private account, however, you had a final glance at the photos of your relationship that littered it. His main account was football focused, but anyone who followed his private account could see he’d worshipped the ground you walked on. Tears were falling thick and fast down your cheeks. What had happened to you? You locked your phone, resting your head on your arms. 

The future was uncertain and your heart was aching, but you were going to be back in London, surrounded by your people. You knew that somehow, some day, you were going to be okay. 

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Yandere Best Friend

Tw: childhood abuse, divorced parents, bullying, violence, angstt, parental neglect

ageless blogs n minors DNI blease tq <3

my masterlist

hi guys after a long hiatus i come back , coping mechanism time

i wrote this like from 11pm to 3am in a frenzy so dont exepct much , ridden wih typos, contradiction,grandma misrake and idk if the reader here is fully gender neutral or i accidentally sprinkled some afab in there

thersras like a part 2 to this so eyah stayetuned

enjoys

He was there from the very beginning, that quiet boy from elementary that you shared your sandwich with when no one bats an eye at him.

He was quiet, you were considered uninteresting. Both of you are somewhat outcasts and the other children held no interest towards you and him. Perfect match for each other, instant best buddies, bonded by mutual loneliness.

Well, maybe, not instant. He was weary and so were you, it took a while before you gained his trust. He made sure you didn't stuff nasty, gritty bugs in that sandwich like how all the other kids would do. You made sure he didn't accept it just to throw it in your face.

Once it was established that you didn't add an extra ingredient and he isn't going to play bread frisbee, the door to a long and strong friendship was established. He doesn't have much to say, but he's never short on kind gestures when it comes to you. Are your bags heavy? Let him carry them, he's a strong boy; he drinks his milk and gets his healthy amount of sleep. You forgot to do your 5th grade long division homework? He is going to swap his completed homework sheets with your empty ones, he's okay with being scolded. He has some stupidly thick skin from what goes on at home.

Your yoyo is really cool, you said. You own that yoyo now. No, really, it's okay. He doesn't really need it and it made you happy when you had it in your small hands. Yes, it took him months of begging his busy, overworked, broken, divorced, struggling, knee-deep in debt dad and a couple of missed lunches to get that shiny yoyo, but he loves seeing your surprised expression and dazzling smile.

Oops, you spilled your drink all over another classmate's book, or you broke a window, or you dented a teacher's car. It doesn't matter how many people witness it, it doesn't matter what you say, he's responsible and will gracefully accept all repercussions and punishments even if that means receiving a couple more ugly bruises on his body that night.

Who doesn't like candy? He sure loves them. That's why, he uses up all his already scarce pocket money to buy you some. You protest, he's confused, don't you like candy? Yes, he knows he won't be eating a lot these few weeks because he can't afford it, but don't you like candy?

Are your hands dirty from eating all that chocolate? Here, use his white shirt as a napkin. No, really, it's okay! He's your friend, he would do anything for you... are your shoes muddy too?

Happy birthday! It's a very special day for you and him too, that's why, he saved up enough to buy you a tasty cake and a pair of beautiful promise rings made up of gold! Isn't that cool? Don't worry about how he got the money and please ignore the giant, bloodied cotton gauze on his head, please ignore his black eye, please ignore the strange burn marks on his limbs. His extra injuries are due to... him falling off a bike. You know that's not true. That's not how he got them. He is going to be really sad if you don't accept his gifts, better just shut up, smile, say thank you, kiss the boo-boos away, stuff your face with delicious cake and wear the damn ring.

Good morning, good afternoon, good evening, good night, goodbye, I love you and all the other greetings are something you hear everyday from him. Hm, the teachers are complaining that he isn't that polite to them or to the other children, all they get are silent blank stares at best, a scowl and a spitting hiss at worst.

Halloween's here, you're dressed up as a generic bedsheet ghost because its the cheapest to do. While he's dressed up as a horror movie survivor. Wow, the cuts, tattered clothes, blood, abuse marks and limping walks really sold the costume. But you and him both know very well that these aren't done using makeup or prosthetics.

You and him went on trick and treating quietly.

Aww, you both are so adorable. Candies for days. Your pumpkin buckets filled up quick, that's because your friend keeps piling his candy into yours.

Aren't chocolate bars his favorite? Yes, of course. They're so expensive, delicious and very unafforable. But why does he keep giving them to you and leaving none for himself? Because they're everyone's favorite, including yours, duh!

Such a young gentleman, he is the type to lay his coat over a puddle of water for you to cross over it.

Middle school is where children usually begin to explore the concept of romance. Maybe you saw him as a brother, maybe you weren't attracted to him at the time, maybe you wanted to put his devotion for you to the test. Whatever the reason was, you consistently friendzone him whenever he tried to court you.

But it's okay, he is willing to wait. He is willing to have his eyes sting with tears, heart broken over and over again. He is willing to grit his teeth and clench his fists while forcing a smile, watching you experiment with the idea of having a boyfriend or girlfriend with other people. He is willing to be the third wheel to every single one of your dates with other kids. Your friend is always going to be there for you no matter what, he is your unyielding safety net, he is your second choice, he is always the best alternative or default when the puppy love didn't work out. And, he found solace in that. Others come and go, he is the fucking constant.

Then, he is going to try his luck. He will do it over and over again. You're going to accept it one day.

Your friend loves flowers. He speaks the language and gives you bouquets of red roses and pink Camellias. You usually chuck it in a vase filled with water and let it wilt, they're going to be replaced anyways.

He found that the food in the cafeteria can be awful, with goopy expired milk, to half frozen pizzas, they're bound to cause some poor kid to puke their guts out later in the day. He is making sure you're not that kid, so, he dedicated what precious free time he had to hone his cooking skills. He is a busy boy, working god knows how many jobs a 12 year old can work in a day, just to fund this essential skill of his.

Middle schoolers can be so cruel, your friend may not look the most feminine, but it's the actions he does out of love that makes the children pick on him for being different. Ew! He likes flowers and cooking! Gross! Evil! Unnatural! Independent! So not Alpha!

It starts off rocky at first, bullies will sabotage him whenever they can, kick him while he's down. Ruin his stocks, call him names and vandalize his belongings, but he gets the last laugh when he makes fucking bank by selling warm, hearty, tasty meals. They're a big hit among the staff who have no time to cook for themselves and have half a brain to know eating from the cafeteria is a bad idea.

Of course, his beloved sweetheart gets to eat for free. And has the privilege to go for seconds, thirds, fourths, however much your stomach desires. Yours are always personalized to fit your palate and presented in the most appetizing way.

Soon, other children began buying his meals too. As it turns out, they fucking slap.

He began expanding, selling resold candies at a ridiculously marked up prices, but the way he marketed and packaged them, gave an illusion that he's selling a premium product. They sold out like hotcakes, while you ate wrapper after wrapper without needing to pay a single cent.

Hey, he really has a knack for business! He is raking in profits, bringing you out to eat, spoiling you with riches a self made, young entrepreneur would have, excelling in Business studies, Accounting, Mathematics and Psychology.

He began testing the limits of his trading empire, he began dabbling in service based business such as delivery, doing homework for a price, obtaining blackmail material... that is how he knew your homeroom teacher had an extramarital affair with the principal. Hmm... the principal seems to kiss his ass a lot and you get a bunch of privileges. You wonder why that happened.

His reputation grew as his shrewdness grew. Your friend was too intimidating to be bullied, as one of his business ventures includes hiring others to do some dirty work for him. You don't know the full extent of his giant conglomerate enterprise, and you don't want to know.

You remember seeing a female teacher handing him a wad of cash, her hair tousled, her clothes were messy, her lipstick smeared and weird stains were all over her body. For sure, she didn't just find it laying around in the boys' bathroom... and, there were a lot more boys requesting a bathroom break that day.

Your friend bought you the latest smartphone model on the same day too. You were disturbed with what you saw and the implications, so you asked if she even got anything out of working under him and... if she even agreed to work as... whatever she was. He just smiled, cup your cheek and told you to never, ever, ever, cheat in a relationship. Especially not with him.

He then followed up with his probably hundredth love confession for you. Which you promptly friendzone him again. Your friend would simply sigh and change the subject. Do you like your phone? He asked as you began unboxing it, the loud chatter from the mall's food court drowned the voice of doubt in your head.

His wallet is growing wider, he is growing taller, posture disciplined, voice deeper and he lost the majority of his baby fat. Giving him a sharper, meaner, leaner look, his physique is nothing to scoff at either. All those pastry batter mixing, soup stirring, skull bashing hustling and bustling sculpted those perfect abs and ass. His hair now has a healthy sheen to it since he can afford better things, his skin had no flaw and the protruding ribs on his chest is now covered up with muscular pecs.

Being pretty does have its' privileges, he observed a sale boost in his balance sheets.

Time waits for no man. Before you know it, the both of you are in Graduation togas. Smiling for the camera, you gave your friend bunny ears.

Your friend started worthless in everyone's eyes, something to poke fun at, a punching bag, forgettable and nothing serious. He transformed into this feared, revered, worshipped yet hated entity. Your friend no doubt made as many enemies as allies, that's just how it is in the business industry. Cold blooded, ruthless and absolutely bizarre to you.

He has obviously put some of the staff and students in horrible situations for his benefit and sometimes for your entertainment. They seem to genuinely see him as some sort of god, someone to cleanse them from all their sins. They... loved him. What a manipulative motherfucker.

As for you... your situation is pretty strange too. You are clearly the only person he cared about, the only person he truly ever loved and cherish. No one seem to conjure up the idea to use you against him. You seem... invisible, for the most part. And you are so grateful for that.

At least, that's what your friend wants you to think. You have no idea how many strings he has to pull to keep you safe and oblivious and innocent. You have no idea how much he had to spend to keep you pure and untainted. But, yeah. Keep believing its' due to some sort of cosmic karma system where you didn't incur any karmic debt.

It was the first time seeing his parents at this graduation ceremony, he never liked having you over at his house. They looked like how you imagined them; miserable, horrible, unhealthy and volatile. They really should not be seated next to each other, his parents looked like they're about to strangle each other and your friend at a moments' notice.

His father was smoking, plumes of grey wafted up in the open air. Ashes crumbled and dropped down to his lap. His necktie was undone and his office shirt was disheveled, much like his belt and scuffed shoes. It was a wonder how he's not escorted out of the venue yet.

His mother... she aged horribly. She looks irritated yet distant, she doesn't want to be here. Or does she not want to be with her ex husband? Maybe if they were separated by an opaque wall, the mood would be much more lifted. His mom wasn't mentioned a lot during conversations, you knew close to nothing except the fact that she gets him on the weekends.

Perhaps his mother is simply neglectful and not active, he did mention that its easier to prepare his sellable inventory during the weekends.

You're nervous to meet them, they're really unfriendly and they don't seem to care that much about their son's accomplishments.

Your friend gently wrapped his arm around your shoulders and rubbed his hand up and down your arm. As if to soothe you from the sight of his less than ideal parents.

To you surprise, he just shot them an indifferent look before leading you away. Their relationships must be unsalvageable.

The event comes to an end, your friend mingled with everyone who, the majority, had clenched fists behind their back. He then went to socialize with your parents, he knew them well and they also knew them well. Their opinions on him are lovely.

He continued his endeavors, trying out many different ventures. It was extremely dizzying with the sheer amount of businesses he had. Your friend moved out of his parents' house(s) and struggled with finding a place for a while. So he stayed over at your parents' house with you for the time being. You get to wake up to the smell of deliciousness every morning, the plants would be watered, furniture dusted, home sparkling clean. Though, he was rarely around.

Eventually, he found his footing and lived in his own place. It's a little cramped and it could qualify as a weapon of psychological warfare, but that was all he could afford at the time.

He fought tooth and nail to obtain a massive bank loan for his main business plan, he was stressing over opening his first restaurant. The logistics of it all, the raw materials, the hired help, the equipment, the advertising-- the pressure of it all was enough to break the average person, but not him. Oh, he thrived on this. He was calculating, he knew the costs, the risks and he saved up enough for a rainy day.

It took him many months, many trips to the bank, many meetings, many phone calls, emails, uncountable hours working 3 jobs a day, an eternity in the kitchen, in the sweltering heat of lit stoves heating up pots and pans, many times where he would lose his voice from aggressive marketing, persuasion, severe sleep deprivation, starvation, networking, tears, blood and sweat. There were more times than you can count with your hands that he was almost driven to insanity if it wasn't for you.

The thought of you alone was more than enough to ground him and keep his eyes on the prize, he is going to make so much money that, you and he wouldn't ever have to work ever again. You both would live happily ever after as a married couple, comfortable and never needing to worry if he could afford the next meal or keep the lights on.

That's nice. You wouldn't need to know what he went through, he doesn't want you to go through a life of hardship like how he did. You wouldn't ever need to work a day in your life.

Your friend rubbed his aching, calloused hands, ridden with cuts and scars. The golden promise ring sits around his finger, it wasn't his to begin with, he stole them from his parents when you both were kids. He found solitude knowing that your hands will never be like his, your back will not ache from overexertion, your muscles will be relaxed and your mind will be quiet, at peace. But only if he kept going. Only if he does not give up.

Everything he does, he does it for you. He thought to himself, as he rubbed his bloodshot eyes staring at the screen of his phone. It's showing that 5 more customers placed an order for his famous party platter through a popular social media app. Your friend sighed as he tucks his phone away before opening the door to his mini fridge containing all the ingredients needed for the orders. It's 11pm, he has to be at one of his workplaces at 6am tomorrow.

The day finally came where he would open the doors to his very own restaurant. There was a crowd waiting in front of the shiny, polished glass doors.

His team of service crews, cooks and baristas anxiously watched on as your friend glanced at his old, marred and cracked wristwatch. His hand was tightly gripping on the door handles as he watched the minute hand twitched. His eyes and mouth were dry, probably due to the dehydration he endured for a while now.

As soon as his accessory shows that it's time for the grand opening, he opened the floodgates.

Customers come rushing in like a torrent of water in a river. Some new, some old, some here to do their jobs as a journalist, some are his other associates, some are his estranged relatives, some are his rivals. It was an assortment of people, a mixed bag.

The Chefs are cooking up a storm in the kitchen, the wait staff are serving customers left and right, bringing them to their tables. Baristas are whipping up as much drinks as they can, as perfectly as they can. Not a single foam bubble out of place, or else all those training would have gone to waste.

It was loud, busy and fiery. Chaos yet it was controlled, Disorder but it was ordered.

Your friend was leading the flow, the rhythm. The pulse of the restaurant depended on him. He made sure everything is in line, satisfaction at an all time high and disappointment non existent. He barked commands, firm and domineering, he controls the scene with an iron hand.

Waitstaff were trained to strike up friendly conversations with customers whose orders will take a longer time, to give the illusion of speed. Cheery faces, toothy smiles, giggles and laughter filled the establishment's air, alluring aroma of cooked goods filled everyone's nostrils, making many stomachs growl. It was colourful, it was tumultuously harmonic, expression of glee would made its way to the patrons' face when their dishes gets served. All the meals go beyond their expectations, in terms of smell, texture, taste and plating.

Your friend made sure that the cooling system was working perfectly, as he works in a kitchen, the easiest way to get snappy and grumpy is to be hungry in an oven. Calming music that's faintly playing in the background also helps, but its' mostly for him and the other staff. Everyone else is too occupied with their own matters to notice.

Today should be a day of accomplishment, happiness and gratitude. Why shouldn't it be? Revenue is projected to be high, profits are guaranteed and expected to go through the roof. Logically, this restaurant will be sustainable for many decades to come.

But your friend... he is getting antsy, upset, distressed, unhappy. His staff is noticing that he isn't all there, he's getting crabbier by the second. They were baffled, everything is going well, he is handling it wonderfully and the pressure is actually slightly dying down.

Where are you? He had scanned the dining area many many times now. No sign of you... but your parents were there. That somewhat calmed him down a bit, if they're there, you should be there too... right? You're probably at the salad counter or the bathroom. He anxiously massaged his hands, where are you?

He trusts his staff to handle everything on their own. He decided to take big strides towards your parents. Your friend greeted them with a warm smile, an animated Hello. Your parents mirrored him and returned the affability.

He was desperate to see you again... oh god, how long has it been since he last saw you? Hear your voice? It must have been months. As this realization dawned on him, he felt the coldest chill run down his spine.

Did he... unintentionally neglected you in the process of building the perfect life? No, that can't be. He sent you texts everyday.

He clenched his jaw and pushed his gnawing thought away momentarily. He made small talk with your parents. It was fine until he abruptly cut them off and got to the point; Where are you?

Your parents glanced at each other and a look of discomfort washed over them. Your friend was using the table to support his weight as he leaned forward. His knuckles turning white from gripping the edge of the furniture too tightly.

They're studying abroad. They said. Your friend froze in place and widened his eyes.

What? Why didn't you tell him? Why didn't he know? Why--

He hastily whipped his phone out and frantically tapped on his cracked screen.

He trembled as he realized you never received his texts, let alone read it.

Your parents explained to him that you changed phone numbers two years ago when you left to continue your studies abroad.

Two years...? Its been two fucking years?!

Your friend began hyperventilating, his face was flushed and he was gagging and gasping. No, no, no this can't be. He is nothing like his parents! You meant everything to him, he had never intend to ignore you, he had never meant to neglect you! Your friend is losing grip on himself, he is shaking like a leaf. No one paid any attention to him, as he is simply insignificant at the moment.

Please... I-I need to call them, please let me call them! He was choking on his tears that were streaming down his face, dripping onto the pristine floors below.

Your father handed him his phone, your new number already dialed.

They're probably having an exam today. Your father tried to warn your friend, but he didn't hear a word. All he could think was you.

Your friend snatched it out from his hand and made a dash past all the staff, customers, chefs...

Until he reached the back door, upon which, he exited through it.

He sobbed, pressing the device against his ear, listening to it beep indefinitely.

The call eventually dropped because it wasn't picked up. His face was scrunched and his sniffles were bouncing off the walls and green dumpster nearby.

He tried again. The call dropped. He tried again. The call dropped.

He tried again,

Your friend crouched down to the ground and pulled his knees to his chest. His cries unheard by anyone, everyone else is in the restaurant. He is the only one at the back.

The call dropped.

I'm sorry. He mumbled repeatedly to himself.

He tried again.

I'm so sorry. He sobbed much harder this time, he cradled his face in his hand.

The call dropped.

Please forgive me. He squeezed his arm, his fingernails digging into his flesh.

He tried again.

You're always my number one. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have neglected you. He drew blood from piercing his skin with his nails.

The call dropped.

I'm sorry, I was only trying to build a better life for us. He took much shallower breaths.

He tried again

I would give up everything just to hear from you again, it means nothing to me if you're not here... with me. Please, I'm sorry. He was growing despondent, desolate. He was clutching his head, a ball of quivering mess.

The call dropped.

I love you. He whispered as he broke down completely. Angry at himself, angry at the world, angry at everything. Life isn't fair. He has done everything he needed to do and yet he the only reward he ever wanted isn't granted; you. He ruined everything, all of it, all his hard work, all of it was worthless. He felt worthless. The guilt and remorse and anguish of being a neglectful friend and partner was crushing him to death.

He wasn't there at the very end.